


Give the People What They Want

by Josey (cestus)



Series: Darker World [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: 12th division, Action/Adventure, Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Dark, Chad/Ichigo - Freeform, Drug Addiction, Drugs, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kidnapping, Kurotsuchi Mayuri - Freeform, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Polyamory, Sexual Assault, Torture, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 33
Words: 333,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9332579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestus/pseuds/Josey
Summary: Sequel toWithout a Net.  Torn between wanting to spend time with his lovers and his responsibilities as captain of the 6th, Ichigo manages to fit in a quick booty call to Karakura, only to discover that things are not going as well as he'd been led to believe. Byakuya has never recovered from the arrancar's attack and, with little support and even less hope for their futures, Renji is floundering. Not to mention, Ichigo has his own issues to deal with, starting with how he's going to keep the 6th afloat without the Kuchiki's fortune to bankroll it.Long term solutions to everyone's problems have to be found, but with other parties starting to make their moves, are any options in Seireitei or the living world truly safe?





	1. Prologue - Sleepwalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I want to apologise for how long it's taken to get this book out. RL has kicked my ass the past couple of years, sucking away my will to live, let alone my desire to write. That being said, I got here eventually, mostly thanks to my beta and great friend [Junko](http://archiveofourown.org/users/junko) who poked, prodded and cheered me on until I finally crossed the finish line. Thank you so much. I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> For those who haven't read the previous three books, I'll wait here while you go do that… 
> 
> [A Darker Shade of Pale](http://archiveofourown.org/works/671777) \- In which Ichigo learns that the afterlife is a lot more serious than he expected, and also contains a lot more sex. 
> 
> [Blind Before the Looking Glass](http://archiveofourown.org/works/917268) \- In which Ichigo discovers that yes, they are actually playing for keeps, and that he might have missed a few things while he was busy getting laid.
> 
> [Without a Net](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1938519) \- In which Ichigo plays catch up and Byakuya and Renji are on the run. With added mutual pining.
> 
>   **(WARNINGS FOR ALL THREE BOOKS FOR CONSENT ISSUES, VIOLENCE AND LANGUAGE)**
> 
>  For those of you who just need a refresher, here's the story so far:
> 
> About 2000 years ago, Seireitei chose to feed all the needy souls in Rukongai rather than open a school for potential Gotei officers and so several vital points of history changed.
> 
> Amongst them was the role of Kuchiki Kōga who, in this timeline, deposed Kuchiki Ginrei as clan-head and captain of the 6th about 300 years ago. He held that position until the early 1930's when he along with other members of his family were killed by Shiba Isshin. After the massacre, Isshin fled to the living world where he hid amongst the human population and eventually had a family with Kurosaki Masaki. 
> 
> The beginning of **A Darker Shade of Pale** sees the Gotei finally catching up with Isshin, resulting in his arrest and the death and detention of his three children. The story focuses mainly on their survival thanks to Byakuya taking up their cause in the challenge arena. It also explores the relationship between the captain and lieutenant duo of the 6th division, Kuchiki Byakuya and Abarai Renji, and where/how Ichigo will fit in their lives. (Byakuya/Renji, Byakuya/Renji/Ichigo)
> 
> Book two, **Blind Before the Looking Glass** , starts with Ichigo settling into life in Seireitei. As a Shiba and 3rd seat he holds a privileged position, however he finds it increasingly difficult to close his eyes to the injustices around him. His reckless actions eventually bring him into conflict with his lovers and the Gotei, and, combined with his Quincy legacy and Aizen's machinations, bring punishment and ruin to those around him. The end of the book sees Byakuya and a gravely injured Renji fleeing Soul Society leaving Ichigo behind to look after the 6th. (Byakuya/Renji/Ichigo, Byakuya/Ichigo, Renji/Ichigo, Byakuya/Renji) 
> 
> **Without a Net** picks up a couple of weeks after the end of book two and focuses on the journeys of Ichigo in Seireitei and Byakuya and Renji in the living world. 
> 
> Having been left in charge of the 6th, Ichigo is trying to cope as a new Gotei captain with little back-up and no bankai. Rescuing Chad from the fighting pits helps some and, with a new home and Chad providing cover by pretending to be his lover, Ichigo finally takes Urahara up on the offer to help out with bankai. Unfortunately the price is far higher than just three days away from home and leaves Ichigo with a hollowfied zanpakutō and a very unhappy Quincy spirit, not to mention an attempted coup at the 6th, a flipping-out Ukitake-taichō at the 13th, and a little sister on the lam from the 4th. About the only good thing to come out of all of this is finally getting word about his lovers in the living world.
> 
> Meanwhile, Byakuya and Renji struggle to survive in the face of injury, starvation, hollows and, worst of all, the vagaries of modern Japan. They find help in the unlikely form of Arisawa-sensei, Tatsuki's grandfather and, hunted by the Gotei and an arrancar who has a personal interest, end up in Karakura where, after a final confrontation with the hollowfied Inoue Orihime that leaves Byakuya on the verge of death, they retreat to the only safe place they know, the Quincy training rooms beneath Karakura General Hospital.
> 
> The book ends with Ichigo reclaiming his division from Soifon, welcoming Yuzu back into the family and sending Chad to the living world to reconnect with Byakuya and Renji. (Byakuya/Renji, background Ichigo/Byakuya/Renji, Chad/Ichigo pretend relationship) 
> 
> Everyone up to speed again? Excellent. On to part four. You get two chapters today and then I'll be posting one every Saturday.

This was stupid. She had no reason to be nervous, or for being scared. The people on the other side of that gate were her friends, her stand-in family while she'd been away from Karin and nii-chan. But still, Yuzu's gut squirmed at the idea of going back. She wanted to stay at the 6th. She felt safe there. Secure. Like nothing and nobody could touch her. Like, after all this time, she'd finally found herself again.

But she'd promised Unohana-taichō. And her training was important, Yuzu knew that. She wasn't some powerful captain like nii-chan. Or a soldier like Karin. Without the skills she was learning from Unohana-taichō, she'd be useless, and that was something Yuzu had promised herself years ago that she would never be again. 

Plus, Ichigo had given his word and, though Yuzu knew he'd never force her to go if she didn't want to, it felt like cowardice to back out now. 

No, there was no choice. She needed to stop dithering. Take might not have anything better to do than follow her around, but Sado-san would definitely have other tasks after this. She wasn't being fair.

Taking a deep breath, Yuzu stepped forward from between her two escorts, raised her hand and knocked firmly on the 4th's small side gate. A moment later it swung open and one of the shinigami often assigned to this duty appeared in the gap.

He bowed politely, and stepped back, opening the gate for Yuzu to pass through. But it wasn't Yuzu's place to go first any longer. Instead, she glanced up and nodded at Take, who slid past, hand on her zanpakutō, ready to enter first, just like she'd done during the whole two weeks she'd been Yuzu's bodyguard. 

It'd been strange at first, having someone so close to her all the time after being virtually ignored at the 4th, but now Yuzu was used to it she would miss Take's steadying presence if they were separated. 

Unfortunately, it looked like no one had told the 4th that they should stay together. As Take advanced, others guards appeared, their hands straying to their waists as well, and even Yuzu could feel the rise in power around them. Finding her way forward blocked, Take backed up, her stance putting her firmly between the guards and Yuzu, and from behind, Yuzu felt Sado's heavy hand come to rest on her shoulder. 

This was getting out of hand. Any second now Sado was going to grab her and drag her away, she just knew it, and then her promise to Unohana-taichō would be broken, and nii-chan and her would fight and - "Please!" Yuzu called out, as much to stop Take and Sado from doing something bad as to explain to the guards, "That's Take Yatsuyo. My bodyguard." 

No one seemed to hear her, so she tried again, this time a little louder. "Nii-chan - I mean, Shiba-taichō, arranged for her to come with me today and everything." At least he'd said he would. Maybe he'd forgotten? He was very busy.

Before she could speak again, another figure appeared in the gateway; Tsukishima-sensei, looking as sharp and judgemental as ever. Over the past few months Yuzu had learnt that appearances could be deceptive. Behind that stony facade, Tsukishima-sensei was always kind and supportive. Everything anyone could want in a teacher.

So why did seeing him now make Yuzu's gut churn and her palms turn sweaty?

Tsukishima's cool gaze flicked briefly from Take up to Sado, before coming to rest on Yuzu herself. 

Fingers clamped in front of her to control their shaking, Yuzu bobbed a polite bow. "I'm here, Tsukishima-sensei. One hour before the morning bell, just like I promised," she said, and then, thrusting all her fears away where they belonged, deep beneath the widest and sunniest smile she could conjure, she continued, "I've missed all of you, ever so much." 

"We've missed you too, Yuzu-chan. Are these your bodyguards? I was told there would only be one." As he spoke, Tsukishima opened the gate even wider and the guards stepped back, apparently finally convinced that Take wasn't about to try and invade them.

"Take-san is mine, yes. Sado-san…" Yuzu turned and glanced quickly up at her brother's…boyfriend, her cheeks heating slightly as her mind stumbled over the still strange word. He stared back at her, dark eyes as kind and patient as always. It made Yuzu feel even worse about her discomfort, but the thing was, Yuzu hadn't even known Ichigo was… like that. Let alone that he and Sado-san were… together. 

She'd tried to be sensible about it. Nii-chan was still nii-chan, Sado was a kind person, and he and Ichigo seemed very close. They shared a bedroom and everything. But even so, when Take had told her about them, it'd been such a huge shock that she hadn't been able to look nii-chan in the face for days, and somehow her relationship with Sado had never quite recovered.

Her gaze dropped quickly and fixed on her feet as she stammered out, "This is Sado-san. He's…" Her tongue tied up on the telling words, cheeks heating still further.

"Your brother's lover," Tsukishima finished for her, and Yuzu didn't know whether to be grateful for being saved or horrified that Tsukishima-sensei knew. Her blush was now making her head pound, but if Tsukishima noticed her embarrassment, he didn't draw attention to it. He just gestured to Sado and said politely, "Yuzu will be finished with her training by five. You're more than welcome to wait inside until then."

Before Yuzu could make Sado's excuses for him, a deep rumble came from behind her, "No, thank you. I'm needed back at the 6th."

"I'm sure you are," Tsukishima said politely. The guards behind him both snickered and Yuzu glared at them for turning an innocent comment into something rude. "Perhaps next time," Tsukishima continued, before turning to Yuzu, "Are you ready?"

"I am," she replied and took a step forwards across the threshold. "Sado-san, please tell my brother I'll see him later." 

The gate swinging closed cut off his reply, if there'd even been one. And now here she was, back inside the 4th. 

Yuzu gazed around, soaking up familiar sights and sounds, willing the churning in her gut to stop and her pounding heart to slow. She wasn't in danger here. See, here was the path to the clinics and there was the herb garden she and Unohana-taichō had worked on together at the end of last summer. 

It wasn't much to look at now, with the tender greens all wrapped in straw and the emptied beds hidden beneath layers of mulch, but when the weather turned, it would spring to life again and this year maybe she could bring her family to see it. Nii-chan and Karin anyway. Dad was… 

Her mind shied away from her father, pulse starting to race again as nausea rose in her throat, because Dad was… Daddy was…

"Are you okay?" Take's voice dragged Yuzu out of her own mind. Yuzu blinked up at her, surprised to find herself on her knees, with Take leaning over her, a look of concern on her normally stern face.

"Yes, I'm…" Over Take's shoulder, Tsukishima-sensei came into view, and Yuzu's stomach lurched again. This time she couldn't stop the nausea spiralling into sickness and she fell forwards, choking and retching onto the ground.

Somewhere above her, voices called out in alarm, but Take was beside her, firm hand stroking circles on Yuzu's back, her other holding Yuzu's hair away from her face, and all the while she kept speaking, "It's okay, sweetie, let it out. Better not to fight it. Good girl."

The tears came from nowhere. Floods of them, that made no sense, except no one had held her like this, gentled her like this, since mom died. Weeping had been something for Dad to jolly her out of, or for Karin to ignore. And Ichigo…? Nii-chan never even seemed to notice.

"Bring her this way," Tsukishima-sensei said, and Yuzu wanted to tell them no, she'd like to just go home now. Home to Karakura and her house. Home with her family. Her real one. Not this broken, squashed together thing that they'd become here. She wanted long summer days, and festivals by the river. Fireworks and snowmen. Her kitchen and her school and her friends. She wanted her life back!

What she got was Take sweeping her up into strong arms, and long strides carrying her across the courtyard. Gravel turned to wood beneath feet, stairs followed. 

Yuzu struggled to sit up a little. They were on the walkway outside taichō's office. Take smiled reassuringly as Yuzu glanced behind them to find Tsukishima-sensei following close on Take's heels, his zanpakutō held loosely in his hand. Yuzu's gaze fixed on the bared blade, the sight of it dragging another deep wave of terror up through her chest. There was something very wrong here. 

Her eyes met Tsukishima's. He smiled, a vulture's smile, full of snatching claws and long drawn out death, and he raised a single thin finger to his lips. Hush.

Fear grabbed Yuzu's throat even as her grip tightened on Take's shihakushō. She should say something. Warn Take. But her voice was swallowed by hopelessness, in knowing what was to come.

Somewhere ahead of them, a door pulled open. Scent poured out, choking Yuzu with sweet honey rot, the musty stink of old books, blood and burning reiatsu. 

"What the hell!" Take gasped. 

In one silent step, Tsukishima moved forward, grabbed Take and thrust his sword straight through her. It emerged, bloodless, from her chest just above Yuzu's stomach, and Take stared down at it, her arms still tight around Yuzu. For a long moment, they stood, a silent tableau, and then Take's whole body went stiff before, a moment later, collapsing entirely. 

Another's arms caught Yuzu as she fell. Familiar arms, that had cradled her for as long as she could remember. She stared up into her father's face. Her father that wasn't her father, because Daddy would never ever look at her in that way.

"Hello, Yuzu-chan," he purred. "I see we got you back just in time."

Dragging in enough breath to make her lungs hurt from it, Yuzu screamed.


	2. Tired of Waiting, Best be Coming

Muttering furiously under his breath, Ichigo paced the rough ground beneath the huge stone wall surrounding the Kyōraku estate in a vain attempt to burn off some nervous energy. It had taken him over two months to get this close, and now he had to wait even longer? Sure, it was only half an hour, but seriously! 

The trouble was, even though the delay was annoying, he had no choice but to just suck it up and be patient, because Rukia needed time to set up her end of the communication kidō. Without that, they'd have no way of contacting the division if anything went wrong, and Ichigo had learnt from the last time he sneaked away that in Seireitei, anything that could get fucked up, would. They needed to have back-up plans, and probably back-up plans for the back-ups plans, just to be safe.

And anyway, he was nothing but an ass for complaining. None of the guys had to do this. It wasn't like Ichigo finally getting to see Byakuya and Renji was official division business. 

Letting his eyes slide closed, Ichigo took a few deep calming breaths. He was going to see them, for real. Gods, had it only been such a short amount of time. It felt like forever, especially these last few days, once they'd got everything organised and he'd finally, finally, seen a chance to cut and run.

Slowly, as his heart rate returned to normal and his nerves stopped jittering, Ichigo tipped his head back and opened his eyes again, grinning up at the white-clouded sky. 

Soon. He'd be there soon. In the living world. In Karakura. To see Renji and Byakuya, and maybe even some of his old friends if there was time later tonight. In the meantime, he just needed to be patient. 

Before his mind could calm completely, his stomach gave a loud rumble. Ichigo grimaced. The damned hollow again. Using bankai might have cut down on the obscenities it yelled inside his head, but it was still finding ways of making itself heard. Sooner or later he was going to have to deal with it properly, but in the meantime, regular food seemed to help. It wasn't always convenient, but without it, the people around him started to look tasty and that was just wrong on so many levels.

He flipped open the top of his carry-sack and reached inside for the dried fish sticks that'd become as much a part of his equipment as his zanpakutō. Pulling out two, he tossed one to Chad, who caught it with a grateful nod and immediately tore into it like he'd not eaten a huge meal before they set out.

That was interesting. Maybe Ichigo was being unfair blaming the hollow for his hunger this time. They hadn't exactly slacked off on the way out here, and the journey had apparently taken its toll on Chad. He looked exhausted, sat over there on whatever the hell that pile of crap was beside the wall. 

Part of the remains of an old village, Ichigo guessed, sticking the snack in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully as he wandered over to take a closer look. From the right angle, you could kind of see what was left of house footings and roads, though anything useful had been scavenged long ago. Presumably to build again somewhere else, far away from mad men who slaughtered their entire families and shinigami with the power to twist people's minds. Ichigo didn't blame those absent villagers. He found this place pretty creepy too. 

Still, the way this area had been stripped made a stark contrast to the vast sprawl of buildings inside the walls, where nothing seemed to have been touched. It was disturbing, seeing the courtyards where all the bodies had been laid out, complete with statues and fountains just like they'd been in the book. And the palace, where Kyōraku's family had been murdered, still full of furniture even though most of the roofs had fallen in. 

The creep factor of being surrounded by all that was what had driven Ichigo out here to wait. Not because Rukia had called him a pervert and thrown stones at him, whatever she might say. And anyway, it wasn't his fault she distracted easily. He'd only been asking how long the kidō was going to take. A couple… or maybe a couple of dozen… times.

"Ichigo."

At the sound of Chad's quiet call, Ichigo turned to see him pointing at the top of the wall where Rukia stood, scowling down at them, her fists propped on her hips. Two hell butterflies dipped and fluttered behind her. 

"Are you coming or not?" she demanded. "After hassling me for ages to get done, now you're too busy dreaming to - erp!"

Ichigo tapped her on the top of the head as he sped past, heading for the senkaimon. It wasn't open yet, but it soon would be. And then… His heart leapt. Then he'd get to see them again. Finally.

*

They exited the senkaimon to find rain bouncing off the pavements and gurgling down drains. Pausing only long enough to raise an acknowledging hand to Rukia, Ichigo tugged his collar higher and set off after Chad along the train tracks towards the hospital.

Unless something went wrong, Rukia would wait over there, alone in that creepy deserted courtyard, keeping their exit route secure and staying in regular contact with her sister back at the 6th, just in case Ichigo was needed there in a hurry. 

Not that he would be. Since Unohana had backed down from that fight over Yuzu, Ichigo felt like he was living a charmed existence. There hadn't been a sniff of a rumour about anyone trying for the 6th, the other captains treated him like one of them, and even the sōtaichō had been vaguely polite to him on the odd occasions they'd met.

It wouldn't last, of course. Sooner or later some idiot would do a run against him, but even if they tried taking the division while Ichigo was away, they'd still have to hold it when he got back. And they wouldn't find that easy. This time, Ichigo knew he could count on the loyalty of his own people, because he wasn't a jumped up kid anymore, only tolerated as captain out of lingering respect for Byakuya. 

No. After that display of power on the walls, Ichigo had finally won acceptance as a true leader, worthy of the rank in his own right. It told in the respect his shinigami gave him, and the pride they had towards outsiders. Whatever other troubles hit the 6th, there'd be no repeat of the Soifon incident, that was for sure. 

The hospital lobby looked grey and watery in the early morning light. Ichigo stuck to Chad's heels as he slipped past security guards and receptionists and along the corridor towards the bank of elevators. From there, they headed down onto what looked like a maintenance level, and on into a small room where, hidden behind a stack of boxes, the entrance to the hidden room was finally revealed.

Unlike all the other doors on the way in, that they'd just walked straight through like they weren't even there, this one had to be opened properly. Chad activated some kind of locking mechanism in the wall and the moment the half height door pulled back, Ichigo ducked inside. 

His head had hardly cleared the jamb when he was grabbed, yanked inside and slammed against the wall. He caught a glimpse of hot grey eyes searching his face, and felt hands press hard against his cheeks, before his mouth was taken in one of Byakuya's typically possessive, demanding kisses.

Except, it wasn't. There was something ravenous about the kiss that had never been there before. Something desperate.

Finally catching on, Ichigo dragged Byakuya closer with an arm around his waist, pressing their bodies together, deepening the kiss and chasing Byakuya's tongue back into his mouth. Byakuya moaned slightly and allowed it, sucking and teasing at Ichigo's tongue like he really wished it was something else. And with the way blood was rushing to his dick, Ichigo kind of wished it was too. 

But it wasn't a good idea to do that just yet, though remembering exactly why right now was beyond him. 

"Sorry about this." That was Renji, somewhere nearby. Which meant Renji was here as well. So why wasn't he a part of this? Ichigo made a sad noise and groped a hand vaguely in the direction he'd heard Renji speaking. 

Chad's voice mumbling an embarrassed, "No problem," explained so many whys, and Ichigo could have shouted with relief when Chad followed it up with an, "I'll wait out here." And then the door snapped closed, and the outside world ceased to exist.

Byakuya dropped to his knees taking Ichigo's hakama with him, and just when he'd managed to loosen those ties Ichigo neither knew nor cared. The back of his head hit the wall as Byakuya took him into his mouth and Ichigo gasped, arching as sudden pleasure raced along every nerve. If something didn't let up this was going to be over embarrassingly quickly.

"B-Byakuya-" he tried, tugging ham-handedly at unrestrained silky black hair. His hips jerked, driving his dick deep into Byakuya's throat, which opened to take him. "Oh-oh fuck-" So fast. Gonna be over so fast.

"Shh," a comforting voice whispered, and larger, gentler, hands cupped both Ichigo's cheeks, lifting his head and turning it.

Ichigo opened eyes he didn't even remember squeezing shut and found Renji staring at him, an odd mixture of love and wry amusement on a face no longer framed by wild crimson locks. Instead his hair was cut close to his head at the sides and spiked a bit on the top. The style made his face look thinner than usual, and hard rather than fierce, but it was still beloved to Ichigo.

"Shit, Renji, look at you," Ichigo husked, managing to untangle one hand and reach out. 

Something dark flickered behind Renji's eyes, and he caught Ichigo's hand, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss into the palm. The message was clear; this was not the time for sorrow or regret, just joy in their reunion.

But seeing him like that had taken the edge off Ichigo's urgency. When Byakuya's hands slid round Ichigo's ass to urge him into thrusting, Ichigo managed it with a bit of control and dignity, at least until Renji leaned forward and breathed into his ear, "He's jerking himself off while he blows you and it looks so fucking hot right now." 

Ichigo looked down, and then all bets were off because Renji wasn't wrong. The sight was as hot as hell. Loose hair fell over Byakuya's face. His eyes were closed, dark lashes forming a perfect arc beneath pale lids. Hollowing cheeks flushed to a rosy pink and his lips, a shade darker and glistening wetly, stretched wide around Ichigo's dick. If that wasn't enough, Byakuya had his hand jammed in the front of his hakama and, just like Renji said, was working his own cock with fast urgent strokes.

The visual sent Ichigo's brain into flat-line overload. The sounds that came out of his mouth were just embarrassing until Renji's lips crashed down on his and then they at least got a bit muffled. It helped that he couldn't see anything anymore. Just feel. Which, no, that didn't help at all. He felt like any second now his whole body was going to turn inside out. 

When Renji started to pull away, presumably to do something annoying like breathe, Ichigo looped one arm round Renji's neck and went up on his toes to follow, and suddenly that wonderful hot suction around his dick was gone. 

Ichigo moaned at the loss, the sound immediately getting drowned out by Byakuya's frustrated snarl. Hands grabbed both of Ichigo's hips and slammed him back against the wall. Pinned there, as Byakuya sucked him in again like a popsicle, Ichigo did the only thing he could and dragged Renji back into a something that would have been a kiss if he could've remembered how to move his mouth.

Clutching at cloth, Ichigo settled on panting frantically into Renji's mouth, his whole body singing with an overload of arousal. A sharp nip on his bottom lip helped a bit and he managed to scramble just enough control not to come there and then. He didn't want to, not just yet, and not because it'd be embarrassing. He didn't want it to happen until all of them could be together. 

A great plan, that got thoroughly trashed when Renji's hand slipped inside Ichigo's suddenly opened shirts, and a thumb nail flicked roughly over a nipple.

"Bastard-" Ichigo tried, the insult cut off in its prime when Byakuya swallowed around him and insistent fingers pressed hard behind his balls. With a strangled gasp, it was all over. Ichigo clung to Renji as waves of pleasure took him, leaving him sightless and breathless as he came hard enough to see stars. 

And to leave him with humiliatingly wobbly legs, he thought dazedly a moment later as Byakuya slid back up the front of him, elbowing Renji aside. 

Ichigo grabbed Byakuya's shoulders, head dropping forwards so it was tucked into the crook of Byakuya's neck, and allowed himself to be held upright as he shivered through the aftershocks. It was nice, comforting even, until a strong hand grabbed the back of his thigh and lifted it to hook around Byakuya's hip, and those same fingers as before, only this time wet with what was probably Ichigo's own cum, pressed against his hole. 

Ichigo's hands tightened on Byakuya's shirt and he jerked his head up. If he didn't do something, he was going to get fucked with virtually no prep. They'd done that before, but Ichigo wasn't sure he was ready for it today. It tended to put a crimp in doing anything else for a while and he'd been looking forward to some serious fun, with both of them, damn it.

As he moved, his other knee gave out, leaving only Byakuya's weight against him keeping him upright. Weight that suddenly increased when Renji appeared over Byakuya's shoulder, his hands landing on the wall either side of Ichigo's head.

Burning gaze fixed firmly on Ichigo, Renji lowered his head and growled lowly into Byakuya's ear, "We're not doing this here remember, 'cause while you're fucking him, I'm gonna be fucking you."

Ichigo felt the shudder run through Byakuya's body. Grey eyes slid closed and a pink tongue darted out to wet lips bruised to a dark red from what he'd been doing. Byakuya didn't answer, but neither did he resist when Renji pushed him aside, peeled the loosened shirts off over Ichigo's head, and then picked Ichigo up and tipped him unceremoniously headfirst over Renji's shoulder. Ichigo's hakama fell off immediately and Renji kicked them to one side as he strode off.

"Oi!" Ichigo yelped, only to do it again when Renji's hand landed a firm smack on his bare ass. The sound of it rang loudly around the room. "Bastard!"

"Eh, you love it," Renji replied, fending off Ichigo's attempts to kick him. After another couple of unsuccessful tries, Ichigo gave Renji's kidneys a desultory thump and hung there, letting himself be carried. It was kind of nice. He'd almost forgotten how well Renji could throw him around.

Byakuya, of course, hadn't got involved in the horseplay, but he was still there. From this angle, Ichigo could just see his bare feet and the bottoms of his hakama as he followed along behind them. 

Hang on a minute! Did that mean both these bastards were still fully clothed while Ichigo was stark naked? That was so unfair. Though Ichigo guessed he shouldn't have expected anything else. He probably ought be grateful they'd waited for Chad to leave before they stripped him.

Wanting to know for sure, Ichigo squirmed, trying to raise his head. Black hakama, white ties, black kosode. No haori, but then Ichigo had that, safe back home at the 6th. Yes, Byakuya was fully dressed. Bastard. 

And following along behind Renji with his head down and his hands clasped in front of him. 

Ichigo frowned. Was Byakuya okay? Was he maybe sick, or something?

Renji grunted quietly, and Ichigo's worried thoughts scattered as he found himself moving again, to dangle even further down Renji's back.

"Don't fucking drop me!" he protested, voice rising to an almost squeak when Renji deliberately let him slide a few millimetres further. That was it! That deserved payback! Ichigo grabbed Renji's hakama in both hands and sank his teeth into the firm ass right in front of him.

"Ow! That hurts, you little-"

The world spun and suddenly Ichigo was falling, but not on his head, onto his back, onto a futon on the floor of a much smaller room than the huge one they'd been in before.

Ichigo hardly had time to register a low table, a bookcase and a set of sliding doors before Byakuya was on him again, kisses just as desperate and hungry as before. 

And… brittle? Maybe things weren't as okay over here as Ichigo had thought. 

Rather than fight for dominance like he normally would, Ichigo let Byakuya take what he needed as Renji worked on getting them out of their clothes, slowly revealing bodies that Ichigo had missed so much it hurt to see them again. He contented himself with running his hands down Byakuya's back, stroking a line down his spine to his ass until Byakuya was grinding against him and panting into Ichigo's mouth.

But even that wasn't enough to stop Ichigo exhaling a sharp curse into the kiss when Renji turned away to lay the clothing aside. Chad had said that Renji had scars, but these were much worse than Ichigo had been expecting. When Ichigo had last seen him, Unohana-taichō had done a decent job of fixing him up after the whipping. Whatever had happened to Renji after that had obviously undone a lot of her good work. The skin on his back and thighs was a maze of twisted scar tissue, that in places looked inflamed and painful. 

The problem was that they were still in the process of healing and had a way to go until they were healed completely, which meant there was nothing really to be done except letting nature take it course. In another six months or a year, they'd be better again. But that didn't stop Ichigo's immediate surge of guilt. If he hadn't made Renji go into the 12th that night, or if he'd stayed and fought when Kurotsuchi's trap had been sprung. If he could somehow have stopped Renji from being taken, or been able to face down the sōtaichō and win Renji back.

Tugging on Byakuya's hair, Ichigo tried to free himself enough to speak, to say something, offer Renji the apology he was owed, then Renji turned back towards the bed and the look in his eyes brought Ichigo up short. 

There was a deep vulnerability there, which Ichigo had never seen on him before, but underpinning it was enough strength and fierce pride to make all Ichigo's regrets die unspoken. It was like Renji knew exactly what Ichigo had been thinking and was just daring him to say it. More, he was demanding that Ichigo feel the same way he did about what they'd achieved that night. The horrors they'd seen when they'd first broken into the 12th, and those they'd destroyed on their way out. The lives they'd saved, even though it had almost cost Renji his own.

And how the hell was Ichigo supposed to answer that, except by doing precisely what Renji wanted. With a shiver, he relaxed, letting Byakuya provide the best of distractions. Renji was right, now was not the time for words. Still, that didn't stop Ichigo from reaching out for Renji and tugging him down beside them.

For his part, Byakuya seemed to take Ichigo's submission as an excuse to start devouring him whole, alternating firm bites with licks and deep bruising kisses up and down Ichigo's body. Every part of him, from neck to chest to inner thigh got blessed with the same treatment, while Renji lay beside them, pressing kisses onto any part of either of them he could reach as his calloused fingers coaxed Ichigo back to hardness. 

It didn't take long. In fact, it felt like only moments before Ichigo had his arms stretched over his head and his hands clamped around the mattress as he pressed his head into the pillows and fought the urge to demand someone just fuck him. Now!

When Byakuya finally pushed Ichigo's knees up to his chest, and fingertips, this time covered in something much slippier than cum, pressed against his hole, Ichigo couldn't contain a groaned, "Please. Fuck, please, just do it- !"

His body arched with the initial burn. Byakuya wasn't gentle, but then Ichigo didn't want him to be. He was too desperate to want anything but now and hard. He bore down, feeling Byakuya's fingers slide deeper, only to leave again a second later and something much larger take their place. 

He grimaced even as Renji slid up his body, pinning him down and breathing hotly in his ear, "You look freaking gorgeous like this. Stretched out and all pink right down to your nipples. Hair sweaty and sticking out."

Ichigo huffed slightly in amusement, his erection flagging as the burn bordered on real pain. But for once Byakuya went slowly, giving Ichigo time to adjust. Renji's solid presence, and his large hand stroking circles on Ichigo's belly and chest, helped, and when the hand strayed lower, Ichigo felt his breath catch. 

"Fuck, please." He might only have come a short time ago, meaning his dick was still on the sensitive side, but he didn't care. It had been too long. He needed this, needed to feel them all together.

To be honest, Ichigo couldn't understand why most people did the couple thing. He knew feeling that way was probably because he'd never been one half of two, but that didn't prevent him wondering things like how people stopped themselves from flying apart with only one person to hold them when things got intense, or how they could trust just one other person with their heart and soul? 

For Ichigo, even when there was only two of them physically in the bed, the missing one was always there too, never far from Ichigo's thoughts and still a part of what he was feeling. He didn't even want to imagine them being separated again, not after the last time. They'd make it work, somehow. They had to. Because this, with all three of them making love together, was perfect, and when Byakuya's hand joined Renji's on his dick, Ichigo almost came again. 

"Crap! Stop!" he gasped, straining against the hold Renji had on his arms. "Gonna… Oh, fuck!" Byakuya moved, and suddenly the pressure inside hit all the right places. Ichigo's next words came out in a sobbing rush. "Don't- don't wanna c-come before you guys. Not this time."

Renji's snicker was unmistakable. Ichigo cracked his eyelids to glare up at him, though going by Renji's amused expression it probably looked more like a desperate plea for mercy. "Bastard."

Renji smirked, gave Ichigo's dick one last affectionate squeeze that made Ichigo's toes curl and let go, saying, "Relax, it's my turn anyhow." As he moved past Byakuya, he nudged him with his shoulder. "Hear that? Ya finally gonna get what you've been asking for all these weeks."

Byakuya lifted his head, unrestrained hair falling away from his face as he turned to watch Renji settle into position, and for the first time Ichigo got a proper look at him. The skin on Byakuya's chest was flushed to its normal aroused bright pink that made the scar over his heart pop whitely, but that was the only bit of colour about him. Apart from that, he looked wrecked, and not in a good way. Exhausted, and way skinnier than Ichigo remembered. Even with his eyes open, shadows darkened below them, and ribs that used to have a decent covering of muscle were now visible through skin that was too pale to be healthy.

"Byakuya?" Ichigo said, voice turning what should have been pure affection into a question. 

Byakuya's eyes refocused on Ichigo, who sucked in a startled breath. It was like suddenly catching the attention of a large and very hungry predator. All of Byakuya's focus, every scrap of it, was now on Ichigo in a way he never remembered having it before. Or had he? The grey in those eyes carried the same smoldering heat now as they had earlier, so maybe this strangeness had been there all along and Ichigo had just missed it, getting caught up in the mood.

Either way, it was disconcerting. Frowning, he said, "Are you okay?"

Byakuya blinked, and suddenly the hunger was gone. In its place was a pain so deep and profound that Ichigo was reaching out before he even realised it. Cupping smooth cheeks with both hands, Ichigo said, "Hey, come on. Whatever's up, we'll fix it, okay. Me and Renji. It's what we do."

His words had the opposite effect to what he'd intended. Instead of smiling, Byakuya's face crumpled, and he fell forwards onto Ichigo's chest, his arms coming up to clutch Ichigo around the neck as he buried his face in Ichigo's shoulder, breath hot and uneven against Ichigo's skin. A moment later, he shuddered all over, fingers tightening in Ichigo's hair, and wetness spilt onto Ichigo's shoulder and trickled down beneath his arm. Byakuya was crying, Ichigo realised, his whole body going rigid with shock. 

Byakuya, the ice prince, who had barely raised an eyebrow when Renji had been publicly whipped, was weeping on Ichigo's shoulder.

Since his own arousal had totally vanished, it came as absolutely no surprise to feel Byakuya soften and slip from his body. Crooning quietly under his breath, Ichigo eased his knees down, cradling Byakuya's shaking frame between them, then lifted his hand to gently grip the back of Byakuya's neck beneath his hair, using his thumb to ease muscles that felt tight beyond belief over bones too close to the surface. 

Renji, still kneeling at the bottom of the bed, watched them with an expression of pure misery on his face.

What the hell was going on here?

Ichigo desperately wanted to know, but he couldn't ask, not yet. Not while Byakuya was in no state to answer, and Ichigo sure as hell wasn't going to try talking about it over his head with Renji. For now, all Ichigo could do was hold his normally stoic lover until whatever this agony was ran its course, then maybe he could get some answers.

Despite making several trips back and forth, neither Chad nor Rukia had suggested anything was wrong. The messages they'd brought were all about reassurance and support, always insisting that Ichigo think of his own well-being and the 6th before Renji and Byakuya.

They'd been lying, Ichigo realised now. Not Chad and Rukia. Ichigo had heard Renji speaking to Chad earlier and their conversation had been completely normal, with no hint that anything might be off. It was Renji who was lying, and Byakuya too. But keeping it hidden so that Ichigo didn't have reason to worry.

Ichigo understood that. He'd done the same thing himself tons of times over the years. But it hurt having it turned back on him, to see the people he loved so broken, when he'd thought they were doing okay.

After a several long minutes of silence, punctuated only by Byakuya's quiet sniffles, Ichigo started to get uncomfortable and a bit chilly. The room was warm enough but the damp spot under his arm had spread right down his side and was leeching heat away from his body. He shivered, wrapping an arm and leg around Byakuya, who was none too warm either, and hugged him closer, burying his nose in sweet smelling silky hair. 

A moment later, a blanket settled over them both. Ichigo glanced up at Renji, nodding a small thank you, and snuggled it up over his shoulder. Maybe if Byakuya was warmer, he'd fall asleep for a bit. He was only shaking periodically now and, from the looks of him, he could definitely use the rest. And if he was sleeping, maybe Ichigo could get some answers from Renji as to what was wrong.

In the meantime, it might be nice if Renji actually joined them. Ichigo looked up to suggest it, only to discover the room empty and the door slightly ajar. Renji was gone.

"Shit," Ichigo muttered under his breath.

Byakuya stirred slightly. Shushing him, Ichigo stroked Byakuya's hair until he settled, then rolled them both onto their sides, grimacing as the blood rushed back into his leg with the change of position. From there it wasn't hard to extract himself completely, and tucking the blanket firmly around Byakuya seemed to make up for losing Ichigo from the bed. Then again, Byakuya wasn't exactly a cuddler by nature, asleep or awake, though he was pretty good at putting up with Renji's glomping. 

Ichigo's gaze turned to the door. So why had Renji done a runner? Was it because he knew something and didn't want to tell, or because he didn't know either and it scared the shit out of him? Knowing Renji, it could be either.

Much as Ichigo didn't want to leave Byakuya alone, he needed answers, and right now Renji was the only one who might have them. With a last caress of Byakuya's hair, Ichigo rose, grabbed another blanket from a pile of bedding in lieu of his missing clothes, and tiptoed out of the room, sliding the door shut behind him.

It took a while with Renji having no reiatsu to speak of, but Ichigo finally found him perched up on one of the highest stages in the vast hall, a blanket around his shoulders, staring out through a narrow slit of a window.

Rather than speak, Ichigo settled down beside him and peered over his shoulder. There wasn't much to see except rain and grass and the bottom of what looked like a sign or maybe a metal barrier. For a long moment they sat in silence, before Renji finally cracked just like Ichigo knew he would and heaved a deep sigh. 

"He's not sleeping or eating properly," he said, gaze still firmly on the window. "The only thing he'll do is fuck and you saw…" He paused, throat working silently for a second, before adding, "And the worst thing is, I dunno why. He won't talk to me, not about anything."

Ichigo shuffled closer, leaning his blanket covered arm against Renji's, and feeling Renji lean back. "Is it about what happened at home?" he asked.

Renji glanced round at him. His eyes looked red. Had he been crying too? "Killing Central, you mean?" At Ichigo's nod, Renji shrugged, turning away again. "Maybe. But I don't think that's all of it. There's something else. Like…" Jaw tightening, he turned his whole body so he was facing towards Ichigo, tucking one leg up between them. "Senbonzakura. He hasn't got it with him. To start with I thought he'd stashed it somewhere, but now I'm not so sure. I dunno, I think maybe it got destroyed somehow."

During whatever happened in Central's chamber? That could have happened. 

"Maybe that thing he used on Urahara in the challenge arena last year?" Ichigo suggested, remembering the way Senbonzakura had crumbled away leaving nothing but its hilt once the technique ran out of time. "What's it called again?" 

"Second Viewing," Renji replied, dragging his blanket higher. "But that's a shikai thing. Why use a shikai ability in bankai?" He wriggled round again to stare out of the window. What was he looking at? There was fuck all to see out there. 

Renji was right, that didn't make much sense. Ichigo sagged. So much for that idea. "Have you tried asking him?" he said, since the obvious option was sometimes the last.

The look Renji shot him was miserable. "You've seen him. What do you think?"

That'd be a no then. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Ichigo huffed a sigh. "How long has he been like this anyway?"

"Since he woke up in the gigai. And before you ask, it's nothing to do with that either. Arisawa-sensei ran tests. Plus he's not in it that much anyway these days."

Old man Arisawa knew about this? Ichigo perked up a bit. He didn't know the doctor well, but any expertise had to be good, right? "What'd he say about Byakuya?"

"That he's depressed, probably. Which I guess makes sense since we're stuck in this place for the foreseeable." Renji grabbed the back of his own neck and squeezed it, much like he used to tug on his braid when he still had it. "I ain't sure we can do it, Ichigo. I mean, I know Byakuya reckoned he was doing the right thing rescuing me and all, but we can't live here, in this place." 

His lip curled into a snarl as he waved a hand around. "It's worse than fucking jail 'cause we get to go out sometimes, get a breath of air, and then we gotta come back here and get locked in again. And your friends, they're doing their best but it just ain't working. You need stuff to live here. Money, papers, and we ain't got none of it. We have to rely on them for everything. Everything! That ain't fucking living! Shit, it's worse than the camps. Least there you got yer own bed and something to fill up yer days.

"We need a proper place to live, something to do." Renji thrust a finger back towards the room. " _He_ needs something to do, to stop him sitting around feeling guilty or whatever the fuck is wrong with him, I swear…" Renji's rant petered out with a shake of his head and a, "Fuck it all. I just dunno what to do for the best any more."

"We can start by getting Byakuya an asauchi," Ichigo said, making the decision on the spot. "Then, even if Senbonzakura's still out there somewhere, he should be able to start shifting it over."

"Maybe." Renji didn't sound as optimistic.

Ichigo couldn't blame him. Even if they managed to get Byakuya fixed, it wouldn't change their living situation, and that was sounding more and more like it needed to be at the top of the list. But how the hell did you go about getting papers for what were effectively illegal aliens? Ichigo hadn't a clue, but it probably involved something dodgy. Still, he had a whole twenty four hours before he had to go back. That was plenty of time to work something out.

Nudging Renji in the ribs to brighten him up a bit, Ichigo said, "At least you're not on your own anymore. Now things are settled back home, I'll come more often."

Renji's answering smile was wan, so Ichigo grabbed him and hauled him in for a kiss. Renji came almost hesitantly, which wasn't right at all and, when Ichigo's hands slid up beneath the blanket to push it off his shoulders, he flinched. "Leave it," he said, turning away and tugging the blanket up again. "Go back and wait with Byakuya. Maybe he'll talk to you when he wakes up."

Taken aback for a moment by the rejection, Ichigo sat and stared at Renji, trying to work out what had just happened. Then he said, "This isn't about Byakuya. Not this part, anyway."

When Renji didn't so much as flick a glance in his direction, Ichigo tried again. "What d'you think I'm gonna do, puke at the sight of them? They're scars, Renji, and you earned them saving at least three people's lives; me, Uryū and little Rikichi, who's doing fine by the way. He survived and everything. If you hadn't stayed behind, we'd all be dead. And I know things are shitty right now but-"

"Don't!" Renji snapped, the sound echoing and sharp in the huge space. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, quieter. Mean. "Don't you fucking pity me. I'd rather you did puke."

"Pity?" Ichigo barked a laugh. "You think what I'm feeling here is pity, you fucker?" This time the elbow he aimed at Renji's ribs was designed to hurt. 

"Ow!" Renji spun and glared at him. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Because you deserved it for being an asshole." Ichigo took a deep breath and tried to explain. "Renji, I don't care about your scars, okay? I just want to be with you. That's why I came here. Not to fight or to talk politics or anything the fuck else, but to spend time with the two guys I love." And crap, he actually said it. Out loud too.

Heat flooded Ichigo's cheeks, and he wasn't alone. Renji was blushing too, something he never ever did. Ichigo waited a second for the full effect to develop, smirked, and poked Renji between the eyes. "You look a tattooed tomato." 

"And you…" The poke Ichigo got in return was to the chest and Renji's finger stayed there. When Ichigo looked down, it flicked up, catching him a stinging ding to the nose. "Just look dumb!" Renji crowed, "Idiot!"

Ichigo didn't even bother replying to that, he just launched himself at Renji, taking him by surprise and knocking him flat on his back. With his legs dangling over the side of the stage, Renji had nothing to brace his feet against to fight back and Ichigo soon had him pinned, hands held down either side of his head. 

Kneeling above his prize, Ichigo happily perused the large amount of naked man he'd uncovered. The scars were virtually invisible from the front, just a few pinkish lines around Renji's hips and over the tops of his shoulders, and the tattoos still drew the eye straight to Renji's groin, where that pretty cock lay in its nest of dark red hair. And, damn it all, Ichigo'd kind of forgotten how Renji was a big guy all over. 

Glancing up at Renji to make sure he was watching, Ichigo made a show of licking his lips, leering obscenely when he felt Renji's dick immediately start coming to attention. That was promising. The leer turned into a genuine grin when he saw the desire reflected in Renji's eyes. "You wanna?" Ichigo asked, thinking about Byakuya still sleeping in the room downstairs. He didn't want to exclude Byakuya, but-

Ichigo's whole body lifted slightly as Renji shrugged beneath him. "With any luck he'll be out for hours and anyhow, I didn't get to come even once yet, so I'll be good for another round later if he wakes up horny."

"Thank crap for that," Ichigo replied, he'd been starting to worry he was going to have to wait, and dove down for a kiss. 

As his lips made contact with Renji's, Ichigo realised his mistake, just in time get yanked totally off balance and thrown neatly over Renji's head. "Bastard!" Ichigo yelled, managing to break the fall, but Renji was on him before he could scramble away and now their positions were reversed; Ichigo was pinned down with Renji looming over him. 

Usefully, the move had taken them out of direct line of sight of the window, so if they did this, anyone with decent reiryoku walking past wouldn't end up with a hell of a shock.

"You still prepped from earlier?" Renji asked, matter-of-factly as he transferred all his weight onto the one hand trapping Ichigo's wrists on the floor. The other he used to start stroking himself, long and firm from base to tip of cock in a way that made Ichigo's brain stutter a bit as all his blood surged southward.

"Erm…" Ichigo managed, and then a bit more coherently, "I dunno, maybe?"

"Then I guess we'll just have to check and see. Over ya go!" 

Pressure on his wrists sent Ichigo onto his stomach and he obligingly went up on his knees, spreading wide as Renji nudged them apart. Head resting on his forearms, Ichigo shuddered as Renji's mouth tracked kisses across his ass cheeks and fingers pressed at his hole, probing and testing.

"Relax," Renji murmured, licking a stripe across the base of his spine. Ichigo did as he was told, biting back a moan and digging his nails into his arm as Renji breached him with a long thick finger. Between his legs, his cock hung heavy, already damp at the tip. He really needed this. It'd been too long.

Even so, Renji's attempt at a second finger made Ichigo flinch slightly and to his disappointment, Renji pulled out, saying, "Need more lube." 

But the lube was back in the room with Byakuya and if he woke up in the same mood he'd been in earlier, it might be hours before Ichigo got anyone inside him. "Fuck the lube," Ichigo snarled, grabbing Renji's hand and slapping it pointedly back on his ass. "Just fucking screw me already."

"Bossy, ain't ya," Renji shot back, then, leaning over him, added, "Maybe I should start calling you Shiba-taichō."

The thought of Renji calling him that in bed was almost enough to turn Ichigo off sex for life. "You do and I'll rip your damned dick off," he growled. "Now get started!"

"Yes, sir!" Renji replied with a laugh and pinched Ichigo hard on the butt, apparently in some kind of attempt to prove he didn't mean it. 

Ichigo kicked him to show he got the message and then nearly swallowed his own tongue when Renji went straight for the reach around, his fist almost large enough to enclose Ichigo's cock completely. "Holy shit," Ichigo gasped, hips surging forwards chasing the sudden sensations. "Give a guy a bit of warning."

"Hm?" Renji replied, his innocent impression sounding a bit muffled. Ichigo realised why when, a couple of seconds later, wet fingers pressed against him. 

This time Ichigo managed not to flinch and was rewarded with a burning stretch as Renji slowly worked him open. It might have been the spit, but honestly, it was probably the way Renji's thumb kept rubbing back and forth across the head of his dick that made Ichigo relax so easily. By the time Renji had him taking three fingers, Ichigo was humping Renji's fist and muttering dire imprecations about what he was going to do if Renji didn't just fucking fuck him already!

"Okay, here we go," Renji said, and for a few long moments Ichigo was left aching and empty, before Renji filled him again, slowly and carefully. In this position, Ichigo couldn't see him, but he knew what Renji would look like right then. He'd have his eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his breath'd be huffing out through his nose as he fought not to move too fast. 

Well, screw that. Ichigo was not in the mood for careful. 

Reaching back through his own legs, he grabbed a hold of Renji's balls and gave them a sharp tug. Predictably, Renji lurched forward with a surprised yelp and finally, finally, Ichigo got what he wanted. "Fuck," he groaned, as Renji's cock hit just the right spot to send shivers of pleasure right through him. "Just keep doing it like that."

"He says, after nearly ripping me balls off," Renji grumbled, even as he obliged. His next thrust was hard enough to send Ichigo skidding forward on his knees and by silent mutual agreement, Ichigo took over duty on his own cock, while Renji grabbed a hold of his hips and held him in position. 

And god's it was good. Not just for the burning ache or the waves of almost indescribable arousal that shot through Ichigo's nerves, but for the closeness of skin on skin and the sheer them-ness of it. Feeling the power of Renji's thighs against his own, hearing his breathing grow heavier, the drops of sweat that fell onto his back when Renji leaned over him to bite at his shoulders and moan, "Missed you so much, Ichigo. So damned much." 

Temporarily abandoning his own cock, Ichigo twisted in Renji's grip, managing to steal a quick kiss before his back felt like it was going to pop a joint somewhere between his shoulder blades. But before he could let go again, Renji's hand slid up his front urging him up onto his knees properly and yeah, maybe that would be a better position for this surface.

Ichigo went, letting himself settle back into Renji's lap, his breath catching as the change in angles drove Renji's cock even deeper inside him, setting off a whole new range of sensations. A moment later, Renji caught his chin and tugged it round so they could kiss, this time deeper and more intimate, with stroking tongues, lips sliding against lips, and an exchange of heaving breaths.

Balls starting to draw up, Ichigo urged Renji into fucking him harder, arching his back and driving himself down onto Renji's cock. Renji finally got the hint, hips snapping forward, making Ichigo choke out a moan into Renji's mouth. When Renji did it again, Ichigo wrapped an arm around Renji's neck to keep himself upright, no longer sure his own legs would be enough to hold him. 

Instead of the usual long tangled locks, his fingers found short stiff hair, which was crap to grab a hold of, but tugging on it still made Renji's breath quicken and the hand he had spread over Ichigo's chest, flatten. 

Ichigo palmed his own cock as Renji picked up the rhythm, his face now buried in the crook of Ichigo's neck. His hot breath was just another layer of sensation on a body already reaching overload. Fist moving like liquid lightning over his cock, Ichigo managed to gasp, "You'd better be close, 'cause I can't hang on much longer."

His answer came in the form of teeth and Renji's nails digging into his chest, then he heard Renji whisper, "Say it again. Please, say it again."

Ichigo didn't even have to think to know exactly what Renji was asking for. His fingers clutched at Renji's neck and the words tumbled out with more joy than he could have imagined possible. "Love you, Renji. Love you so much." 

Renji's arms jerked tight around him, pulling him down hard onto Renji's cock and Ichigo was coming. They both were, hard and long, with scrabbling fingers and rising voices, wonderful and totally perfect, until Renji called out, "Fucking hell, Ichigo, me too," his voice cracking into a squeak right at the end. 

Ichigo snorted with laughter even as his body shook and cum spurted over his fingers. In his ear, Renji let out a breathless chuckle, and then they were both laughing, toppling sideways, and landing in a panting heap, still locked together, shivering and giggling through the aftershocks. 

"You shit," Renji grumbled good-naturedly, once they'd both worked out which way was up and whose limbs belonged to whom.

Ichigo snickered again, unrepentant, ducking as Renji flailed an uncoordinated hand at the back of the head. They'd actually managed to land on one of the blankets, which left a mess everywhere, but at least it was more forgiving than whatever the floor was made of. That surface was hard; Ichigo knees might never be the same again.

Yawning, Ichigo stretched and rolled over to lie on Renji's chest, his chin resting just above Renji's nipple. Renji glared down at him, but it wasn't for real. Even so, Ichigo said, "I do, you know. Love you." Now he'd said it a couple of times, it came out easier. Maybe if he said it enough times to Renji, he'd work up the courage to say it to Byakuya as well, though that seemed like it might be harder somehow. 

Not because he didn't love the guy, because he did. But because Ichigo had no idea how Byakuya would react to hearing Ichigo say it. Hells, he had no idea how he might have reacted before, and now he didn't have even the first clue. Though, going by Byakuya's reaction when Ichigo had promised to help him, it might be something he needed to hear.

Realising that Renji hadn't replied, Ichigo glanced up to find understanding crimson eyes studying him. "You're thinking about him, aren't ya," Renji said. "Byakuya." He pressed a finger between Ichigo's brows. "I can tell 'cause you started frowning again."

Ichigo swiped his hand away and flopped over onto his back. His whole body hurt, in that good way it did after a long work out or a hard fuck. He sighed. "We should go back down there. This is gonna take both of us, I think."

"Yeah," Renji replied, sitting up with his legs out in front of him and reaching down to grab his toes, stretching until his spine cracked. 

Ichigo blinked at the close-up view it gave him of the scars and reached out, running his fingers briefly over the edge of one that curled along Renji's ribs. 

Renji froze for a second before huffing out a breath, though he only relaxed properly when Ichigo stopped touching him. "Sorry about having a go at you before," he said.

"S'ok," Ichigo replied, leaving off his inspection since it was obviously making Renji uncomfortable. Instead, he grabbed the other blanket which had got shoved up against the wall and bundled it up. "Pity about the ink though. Reckon you'll be able to get it redone one day?"

Renji shrugged and dashed a hand over his shoulder like he was wiping something away. "Maybe. Give it a century or two, let 'em fade as much as they're gonna." He rolled to his feet and held out a hand for Ichigo to take.

Ichigo studied it, and Renji, suspiciously, before accepting the help and getting yanked to his feet with enough force to make his bones creak. 

"Course," Renji said, over the top of Ichigo's pained oof, "by then they might have come up with something even better than ink and needles. Lasers, or some kind of digital computery thing."

Ichigo laughed and poked him before setting off across the room. "Listen to you. All digital and computers. Next stop, Abarai Renji, professional hacker!" 

"Hey, I'll have you know I've got my own mobile telephone!" Renji shot back, darting after him.

Ichigo stopped in his tracks. A phone could be really freaking useful. He'd planned to go visit his friends to get Renji and Byakuya the help they needed, but with a phone, he could do it in half the time. Before Renji could tackle him, he demanded, "Where is it?"

Back in the room with the still sleeping Byakuya, it turned out. After a quick wash up in the tiny bathroom, Renji handed the phone over and, while he went and rounded up Ichigo's clothes, which was only fair since he'd taken them off and spread them all over in the first place, Ichigo sat at the table entering all the useful names and numbers he could think of into the phone's memory. There was no guarantee they'd still work. He'd not called any of them for almost a year and people moved on, but it was worth a try.

"Mizuiro's the guy you want," Ichigo said quietly when Renji wandered back in, one of Ichigo's fish sticks stuck out the corner of his mouth. "If anyone knows how to get false papers, it'll be him. Or he'll be able to find out. He knows people." That wasn't strictly true. Ichigo tried again. "He knows a lot of women. And they do things for him."

Tugging the stick from his mouth, Renji replied, "Ah, one of those," and tossed Ichigo's clothes at him.

What that was supposed to mean, Ichigo had no clue. Catching the shitagi before it smacked him in the face, Ichigo continued, "Keigo's okay too. A bit of a twat, but a good guy to have around in a pinch. When I call, I'll ask-" His mouth stuttered to a halt as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"Shit," he said, hands and phone thumping to the table. His hakama landed on his head a moment later and he shoved them off onto the floor irritably.

"Okay, what's up now?" Renji asked, folding down tailor-fashion across from him.

Ichigo glared. "You've got gigai, right?"

"In the cupboard." Renji pointed to the sliding doors at the other end of the small room. "It's creepy having them out here when we're not in them."

That made sense. "Then you'll have to make the calls," Ichigo said. "I've haven't got a body, so they're not gonna be able to hear me on the phone. And when we get them here, they won't be able to see me either, so you're gonna have to do all the talking." 

Somehow this realisation, more than anything else that had happened since that night Renji and Byakuya came to his house, drove the point home for Ichigo. He couldn't just phone his friends any more. This was the world of the living. His friends were alive, but Ichigo was dead.

Renji's slightly confused expression darkened into a frown. "Crap," he began, but whatever else he might have said went unspoken as the door to the secret room suddenly opened and Chad's panicked reiatsu signature shot towards them. 

Ichigo was on his feet in an instant and a second later, when the door banged open, he was already yanking on his clothes. "What happened?" he demanded, already thinking the worst. Kurotsuchi and his vultures, or even Aizen. 

"Shinigami heading for the estate," Chad gasped, "We're gonna be cut off. Gotta go. Now!" 

"Fuck!" Ichigo cursed, fighting with his hakama ties. This was a freaking disaster. Renji and Byakuya needed him here. He cast a desperate look at Renji. "I'll be back, okay, soon as I can. Promise."

Renji just looked resigned, like he'd expected this to happen. "Only if its safe," he said. "The 6th's your first priority." 

In terms of duty, maybe, but not in his heart. Doing up his final hakama tie, Ichigo leaned down for a kiss then turned to the futon where Byakuya was struggling to sit up, presumably woken by all the noise and reiatsu flying around. 

"Hey," Ichigo said, kneeling down and pressing a kiss to a mouth sour from sleep. "I'm sorry. I have to go. But I'll be back, I promise."

Byakuya's eyes cleared and for a brief moment he was the man Ichigo remembered. Unemotional, but caring, even if he hid it well. "I heard," he said. His gaze flicked briefly to the door, before returning to Ichigo. "Be careful. Don't let anyone trick you into doing something stupid."

Like they had him? Was that some kind of reference to what had happened with Central 46? Ichigo dove in for another quick kiss before saying, "You can tell me what happened next time. All of it." Byakuya nodded, his hand rising to brush over Ichigo's cheek and then Ichigo had no choice but to run.

They didn't bother going back to the original senkaimon site. Instead, Ichigo opened one in the hospital stairwell, making sure to use the right kidō code to connect it to the Kyōraku estate and not the main gate in Seireitei, which might be a bit difficult to explain since no one had seen Ichigo leave. 

Less than five minutes after Chad had arrived with the message, the pair of them stepped back into Soul Society, and immediately found themselves enveloped in thick freezing fog.

Silent as a ghost, Rukia appeared in front of them. Ichigo bit back a surprised yelp and did his best to follow when she murmured, "This way," and moved off. 

It was easier passing through the fog than it should have been. Where Rukia moved, it seemed to thin, like it was creating a clear space for her to walk through, and Ichigo and Chad behind. Beyond them though, the swirling white cloud was as impenetrable as a blizzard.

Slowly, their small group headed across the courtyard, shadowy shapes looming up out of the fog, only to vanish again a moment later. All around them, people called out to each other, some in annoyance, others fear, their voices echoing strangely in the mist. The shinigami who'd suddenly arrived, Ichigo guessed, though right now all they reminded him of were ghosts. He shivered. The further they went, the less natural this whole thing felt.

"What the hell's up with the weather," Ichigo hissed finally, not able to keep his worries to himself any longer.

Rukia shot him a filthy look over her shoulder, the message clear. 'Silence, idiot! Until we're safe.' Which meant she probably knew what this was. Had probably even made it happen herself.

Obediently, Ichigo held his tongue, until his suspicions were confirmed when they emerged from the mist halfway down the hillside to the same mild weather as earlier in the day.

"Okay," Ichigo said, before Rukia had a chance to wriggle out of it. "Spill. What's the kidō?" Because that was a useful skill. Sneaking in and out of the 6th would be tons easier with cover like that, though it might look a bit obvious if their's was the only division always stuck in a fog bank. For emergencies, though, it'd rock.

"It's not kidō. Sode no Shirayuki is an ice zanpakutō," Rukia replied with a chill snap to her voice that made her words self-explanatory. 

Ichigo's gaze dropped to the unsheathed sword she was carrying in her hand, noting its changed form and the white ribbon curling from the hilt. "Cool," he breathed, genuinely impressed

Instead of graciously accepting the compliment, Rukia punched him hard in the shoulder and shunpo'd off. "What the hell was that for?" Ichigo shouted after her. The woman was totally random at times, seriously.

"She thought you were mocking her zanpakutō," Chad said, stepping up beside him. 

It took Ichigo a second to get it. When he did, he growled under his breath and took off after her, yelling, "Oi! Rukia. Get your ass back here! I never meant it like that!" 

He didn't catch her. Not that he tried very hard. She stayed obstinately a few steps ahead of him, and after a couple of minutes, Ichigo dropped his pace so Chad didn't fall too far behind. In that order, they headed back towards Seireitei.

Chasing after his new third seat wasn't exactly how Ichigo had imagined his trip back home going, but at least it gave him a chance to think seriously about Renji and Byakuya. An asauchi should be easy to come by. He'd send one through as soon as those troops had cleared from the Kyōraku estate. The rest was more difficult, but he gave it some serious thought.

By the time they reached district six, he was starting to get an idea of how he might at least help with the housing situation. If Ryūken and Uryū hadn't been declared dead yet, their old apartment in Naruki-shi might still be empty. And if it was, it'd be the perfect place for Renji and Byakuya to set up home. 

But he couldn't just hand it over to them, not after all the things he'd learnt about Quincy history. He'd have to get his uncle's permission first and there was no guarantee Ichigo would get it. After all, Renji and Byakuya might be Ichigo's lovers and exiles from Soul Society, but they were still shinigami.

Then again Renji had helped save Uryū's life. That had to make the difference, right? 

Even if it didn't, he had to try. 

But he couldn't do it himself. Ryūken and Uryū's new Rukongai home was in the remote and hilly twelfth west. Even travelling alone, Ichigo would struggle to make it out there and back in the time he had left. 

He'd have to send Karin. She was probably a better choice than him anyway, since Ryūken seemed to find it harder to say no to the girls than he did to Ichigo. And if she was going, maybe she could take Yuzu. It was about time the whole family got a chance to meet up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three will be posted next Saturday.


	3. Unwanted: Mister Unpleasant

To Renji, the sound of the hatchway sliding closed was a death knell, louder than the slam of his cell door in the Senzaikyū and more final. As the echoes faded, silence wrapped around him, choking in its complexity until he thought he might suffocate under the weight of it, dragging him down into an eternity of suffocation. 

And crap, he really needed to get out of here. Even his thoughts were starting to turn melodramatic. 

With an irritated grunt, he rolled to his feet, only for Byakuya to suddenly say, "Are there not always guards on the senkaimon?" 

Renji paused, fist pressed to the ground, and glanced over at him, at pinched brows and down-turned mouth. "Yeah, in Seireitei there are, but they're not using that one, remember."

The confusion on Byakuya's face only deepened. "They're not?" he said, voice doubtful and enough to make Renji want to tear what was left of his hair out. 

Instead, he sighed and rose properly, stretching out the kinks that screwing Ichigo had left behind. "No. Like I said yesterday," - and the day before, and the day before that - "there's one still working at the old Kyōraku estate." 

At the reminder, Byakuya's expression cleared. "Yes, of course. Shunsui's senkaimon," he said, nodding firmly as if trying to make the point stick. Renji could only hope it worked. At the moment, Byakuya's memory was like a sieve about certain things and it was driving Renji slowly round the bend.

That grey gaze rose to meet Renji's, and the smallest of small smiles curled the edges of Byakuya's lips. "He's looking well, isn't he," he said.

Renji couldn't have stopped the broad grin that broke across his face if he'd wanted to. "Ichigo? Yeah. Really good. Reckon he's grown an inch or two. Filled out and all."

"Indeed, he-" A sudden deep yawn cut off the rest of Byakuya's reply and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth.

Renji was beside him in a moment. "You still look tired. Reckon you can sleep a bit longer?" If he could, it'd be amazing. Renji'd had lost count of the number of nights he'd woken to an empty bed, only to find Byakuya sitting out in the training room, half-frozen and staring at nothing. "Come on, lie back down. Give it a go." 

He tugged on the blanket, and for once Byakuya went without demur, curling back down on the futon, his eyes already sliding closed. That crying jag had definitely taken it out of him.

Not wanting to risk disturbing him, Renji went to move, only for a hand to shoot out and grab his hakama. "Stay? Please." And the silent plea in Byakuya's voice made anything but acquiescence impossible. 

Renji subsided back onto the futon, lying down so he was facing Byakuya, who laced their fingers together and tucked their joined hands up under his chin. Within moments, his breathing began to even out and soon he was fast asleep again, leaving Renji with nothing to do but watch him and think.

Inevitably his thoughts turned to Ichigo. Byakuya was right, he did look great. And, they might not have had much of a chance to talk, what with… other things, but according to bird-boy, Ichigo had bankai now and the 6th totally accepted him as captain. They even thought he had a new lover. So, he was doing okay. Getting on with his life.

Before this visit, Renji had been preparing to say exactly that: 'Forget about us. Move on. Whoever this person is, have at it and enjoy them'. And then Ichigo had actually said the words. He'd told Renji that he loved him. And that changed everything.

Renji had known his own feelings towards Ichigo for a while and they were simple. He loved Ichigo. You couldn't be around the kid for long and not fall in love with him, as far as Renji was concerned. But he'd never quite known how Ichigo felt. 

They'd had such a rocky start. Ichigo might have told him that he'd been willing and up for everything they'd done that first night, but in retrospect, Renji knew it hadn't been that simple. Ichigo had been looking to kill him and Byakuya, so he could escape to save his sisters and father, and he'd been willing to do whatever it took to achieve that. Including let Renji fuck him.

Sure it had been Ichigo's decision to make and his body, but still, looking back on it made Renji uncomfortable. It smacked too much of the times he'd done the same thing with Byakuya, letting his captain fuck him because he wanted out of a punishment or in on some extra privileges. And he never wanted Ichigo to be in that position, which was why he'd gone out his way afterwards to spare Ichigo the worst of Byakuya's excesses.

Not that there'd been many. Ichigo joining the pair of them had changed so much. Before their raid on the 10th and all hell letting loose, Byakuya had mellowed to the point where Renji would have hardly recognised him compared to the strict captain he'd been before. But then everything had gone wrong. Byakuya had withdrawn right back into his shell, pulling the walls up behind him so high that, when he'd been injured, Renji was scared that the walls coming down had actually destroyed part of Byakuya too.

He was so different now. And not in the good way that he'd been around Ichigo. This was something else. This new Byakuya was unsure of himself, which alone was enough to make Renji panic because Byakuya had never, in the all the years Renji had known him, been unsure about anything. 

And that wasn't all of it. He was forgetful, confused sometimes, and mercurial in his moods. Byakuya had never been been moody in the past. He'd had one mood, coolly disdainful, made to fit all occasions from public appearances to private passion, and the gods help anyone who thought to question it because they would feel the entire weight of its regard. 

If Renji had been pressed to find one word or phrase to describe the man, it would probably have been something like 'self-contained', because he'd never seemed like he needed anyone else to survive.

Now, Renji didn't know. That crying episode hadn't been the first. In the past few weeks, Renji had been wept on, attacked, told leave so many times he lost count and, worst of all, ignored for days on end. Arisawa-sensei said to give it time, that Byakuya would get better, but Renji had reached the end of his tether a long time ago and was now going down for the third time. 

With a muted groan, Renji flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. Death by over-reaction and mixed-metaphor. That sounded about right for his life. 

He growled quietly in the back of his throat and kicked a leg, flipping the blanket off. Beside him, Byakuya slept on, oblivious. Renji spared him a look before growling again, this time in frustration.

If he was the sort of guy he should be, he'd stay, content to watch Byakuya sleep, but lying here as his thoughts spiralled tighter and tighter towards total freak out wasn't gonna do either of them any good. So, yeah, Renji was just enough of a shit to leave him to it.

Freeing his hand was easy enough. He tucked Byakuya's now empty one back under his chin along with the blanket, and escaped from the bed. The cupboard was his next stop. Tucked behind their two gigai was his asauchi, the one whose tsuba was now a familiar deep bronze colour. Renji ran his thumb over the metal. Maybe after today, it'd have the right markings on it as well.

Deep inside his mind, Zabimaru roared their agreement.

*

As soon as Renji opened his eyes, he knew exactly when and where he was, and it was damned tempting to duck straight back out again into the real world, where all he had to worry about was Byakuya catching him sitting jinzen. Because this… this was going to be no fun at all.

In front of him was a crowd. Mostly kids, with a few adults stood around the edges, hands on their swords as they watched the action. The kids were all looking anywhere but at what was going on, and much as Renji wanted to do the same, he forced his eyes to the front.

Despite knowing what he was going to see, his spine still stiffened and all the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. They had Tōshi stripped and strung up already. Koio too, her little legs too short to reach the ground so she was dangling by her wrists from the bar. Only Sōyo was left, and he was making them fight for it. Which meant any second now-

"Leave him alone!"

Renji screwed his face up as his younger self's voice rang out across the crowd. He'd been such a smart-ass back then, thinking he knew the score and was gonna step up and bravely save his friends.

"It wasn't them. It was me!"

Those words elicited a full-fledged wince from adult Renji, especially when the assistant commander's curt reply came, "A confession, eh? Then you'll not mind being punished alongside your accomplices, since they also claim to be guilty," followed by a snapped order at the guard to, "Restrain him!"

Little Renji's protests of, "No! Yer supposed to let them go!" went entirely ignored.

If Renji remembered rightly, the others had been nicking food, or blankets, or something of the sort. A common enough offence anyhow, and one that earned you a beating if you were dumb enough to get caught. Renji never had. These three on the other hand hadn't been so lucky. Except Sōyo was Renji's bunkmate, and had been for a while, and some twisted sense of honour insisted that Renji stand up for the sneaky little shit. 

It wasn't like Renji had ever even seen any of their pickings. Back then, the three of them had been way too selfish to share, and anyway, Renji hadn't needed them. He was already a better thief than they ever dreamt of being and had all the supplies he could lay his hands on, with enough to spare besides. Renji was pretty sure the only reason Sōyo had got involved with the other two was to prove something to Renji. Idiot. Kid always had been more mouth than trousers.

Waiting and watching through the beatings wasn't easy, but Renji knew how these worked now. After that first time, when he'd had to rescue his child-self from the flood, he'd had to play out a couple more scenarios. Minor events mostly, but they all had one thing in common: the only person Renji could interact with was himself. No one else could see him or hear him, and if Renji tried to touch them, his hands went straight through them, so there was no point in even trying to stop the beatings from happening. 

The kids weren't real anyway, or so Renji told himself as their terrified and hurting cries filled the air, just figments of his imagination. Ciphers to let his mind and body find a way through the seal keeping him and Zabimaru apart.

Finally, the guard stepped up behind little Renji and raised his cane. Compared to the whipping Renji had taken up on the Sōkyoku Hill, this was nothing, but for the kid about to feel the slash of a cane wielded for real for the very first time, it was going to be horrific. 

A step of slow, stunted shunpo, which was the best Renji could manage as yet, took him to the front of the crowd. Another step took him to the other side of the platform, where he hunkered down in front of little Renji just as the first blow fell.

As Renji had expected, his tiny counterpart didn't react well. His expression, which up till then had been set in mulish obstinacy, kind of fractured apart, eyes popping wide, mouth dropping open, and then the scream, tearing from his throat like it could somehow strip away all the pain and make it go away. And he danced, little feet drumming on the floor as he tried to get away from the whistle and strike. Not hard enough to break the skin, not at this age, but enough to bruise badly and teach a hard learnt lesson.

Rather than focus on the beating, Renji searched for evidence of the seal. The first time, it'd been strands of black stopping his younger self climbing higher up the tree. Thinking back over it later, Renji realised that was the first time he'd heard Zabimaru's voice. He'd been crouched on a branch, far too terrified to move, until someone had told him that it was okay, that if Renji fell, there'd be strong arms to catch him, and for some reason Renji had believed it enough to actually climb up out of danger. 

The second time had been during a nasty case of sunstroke, of all things. The new kid in a new camp, Renji'd been locked out in the yard during the heat of a summer day and the seal that time had been concealing the piece of wire he'd needed as a lock pick. If Zabimaru had spoken to him that time, Renji didn't remember, but then by the time he'd got in out of the sun, his brains had been mostly fried anyway, so that didn't factor.

Course, sometimes there wasn't a seal, or Renji couldn't find it, so then he just had to sit through whatever event his memory had conjured up. Like learning to how to sneak in the back of the store-shed or the first time he'd gone to his knees to get himself out of trouble with one of the older kids. That one hadn't been much fun either, but it beat the pants off this.

Little Renji was really screaming now, every fall of the cane making his voice rise to a wailing sob. Blood spilt from the corners of his mouth. Bitten his tongue, probably. It was common enough. 

Memories started to trickle back. He had bitten his tongue that day, and had kept doing it. He'd have probably bitten it right off if-

For a brief second, Renji was inside the kid, wrists and back a throbbing mess of agony, mouth full of slime and copper, and in his head, a voice; _Bite down on this. It'll help with the pain._

Without stopping to think, Renji yanked Zabimaru from his belt and shoved the hilt sideways between the kid's teeth. As the next blow fell, the little one clenched on that instead of his tongue. Blood still spilt, but not from any fresh wounds, and the silk sopped it up anyway, quickly turning a deep crimson red.

Renji jerked awake, staring down at the asauchi lying across his lap. With more than a bit of wonder, he dragged tentative fingertips across the newly red hilt. So that was why the wrappings were that colour. He never actually questioned it, but it was good to know.

But had that dream, or vision, or whatever the hell they were, brought him any closer to being able to call Zabimaru out again?

Re-energised by the thought that it might have, Renji leapt to his feet and took his stance. The sword felt right in his hand, and the one in his head was as solidly toothy and segmented as it had ever been. It would have to do. 

Enough concentration and the small of amount of reiatsu he could summon began to swell and pulse. Renji closed his eyes and let it grow until it rose to a teetering crest, then, "Howl, Zabimaru!" he called, using the slide of his hand along the blade to push his reiatsu through it, to force it from one shape into the other.

For a second he thought it might go. He felt the metal shift and the weight change, could feel Zabimaru inside him, struggling to get free. He pushed harder, sweat popping on his brow, breath rushing in his lungs. Just a little more, a little more… 

The sword suddenly collapsed back into it original shape.

With a snarl of frustration, Renji hunkered down, asauchi gripped tight in one hand as the other grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed. So close! That had been so damned close!

 _So try harder next time,_ a familiar rumble echoed in his head. Still from too far away, but so much closer and definitely his Zabimaru.

Renji hugged the thought to himself as he stood up, hands still shaking a little as he sheathed the blade, and turned to hop down off the stage.

Byakuya was standing near the edge, watching, nude but for the blanket wrapped round his shoulders. In the odd dim light of the vast dojo, his eyes gleamed like silver coins.

"Did it work?" he asked.

Renji lifted the sheathed sword, showing off the red hilt. "Some," he said, a bit warily. 

The first time Byakuya had caught him sitting jinzen had been the first time Byakuya had attacked him. It had taken all Renji's skills in avoidance and abject submission to avoid getting seriously hurt that day, and no way did he want a replay, so when Byakuya gestured him closer, Renji obeyed, offering up the sword for inspection. 

It took every ounce of willpower Renji had not to snatch the sword away as Byakuya reached out, but rather than try and take it from him, Byakuya slid a single finger along the hilt in an oddly proprietorial gesture. Renji shivered, like it was him Byakuya was touching, not Zabimaru. 

"I hadn't thought it possible to break such a strong seal, but somehow you're managing it." Byakuya's chin lifted as he spoke and his eyes met Renji's. The depths of them seemed absent or hidden, but on the surface they blazed with approval. "I'm very proud of you, Renji."

In the face of such praise, it was all Renji could do not drop to his knees. Instead, he managed to find his voice and stutter out, "Ichigo said he'll bring one for you. Next time he comes."

Byakuya's reaction was immediate. His face drained of expression and he turned away, tugging at the blanket. "Why would I need such a thing," he said, dropping down off the stage.

Renji followed. "For Senbonzakura. With an asauchi, you can start moving it over." No answer. Not even a twitch. It was so freaking frustrating. He tried again. "Look, I dunno where you stashed it, or if it got broken when you rescued me, but- "

"Enough! This is none of your business," snapped Byakuya, picking up his pace.

And that was almost worse than being ignored. "Fuck you!" Renji yelled, not even bothering to keep up any more and wondering how this had got out of control so damned fast. 

As Byakuya strode away from him, apparently not giving a shit that Renji was still speaking, Renji stared after him, mind spinning in every direction, all of them bad, until eventually he couldn't keep it in any longer. "Why won't you talk to me?" he cried. 

Still nothing. Byakuya kept walking, and Renji's next words tumbled out full of hurt and resentment. "I don't get it. How come you'll tell him and not me?"

Finally Byakuya's steps faltered to a stop. He stood motionless for a moment before his shoulders slumped and his head dropped, every scrap of the anger he'd had before vanishing like it had never been.

Renji's heart squeezed at the sight. Now look what he'd done. And for what? Because Byakuya would rather talk to Ichigo than him? How petty.

He hurried over to Byakuya. "I'm sorry. I never meant…" Except he had, hadn't he. "It's up to you who you talk to. I got no right to insist." Even if it cut him up inside every time Byakuya shut down like this. 

When Renji reached him, Byakuya's hair was over his face. Renji brushed it gently away, to find tears wetting Byakuya's cheeks even through eyes screwed tightly closed. 

Fuck. Way to be a complete asshole. 

"Hey," Renji said carefully, trying for something that wouldn't either lead to another row or upset Byakuya even more. His own stomach rumbling provided an easy answer. "How about something to eat, eh?" Renji had no idea what time it was, but it had to be dinner time somewhere, right?

Getting back to the room seemed to exhaust what little energy Byakuya had left. When they got there, he retreated to the futon, pulled the blanket over his head and proceeded to ignore Renji as he put the asauchi away in the storage cupboard and pottered around trying decide if it was worth all the effort of getting into his gigai just to eat. 

It wasn't, he concluded eventually, after poking through their supplies and discovering his choices were noodles, noodles, or just for a change, noodles. For all the so-called 'convenience' of the living world, Arisawa-san sucked at providing anything resembling real food. 

That was unfair. And since there was no one else to do it, Renji sat beside the table and took himself to task. 

He knew his own appetite wasn't back to normal yet, or he'd be stuffing his face with whatever was available, however it tasted. And anyway, Arisawa-sensei hadn't asked for a thing in return for all he'd done and was still doing for them, so Renji was just being an ass for complaining. If anything he should be working on a way of getting them out of here, so they didn't have to rely on the doctor any longer.

Mind following that line of thought, Renji's fingers drifted to the phone, still sitting on the table where Ichigo had left it, and flicked up the address book, now full of numbers for people who might be able to do things like provide basic documents so he and Byakuya could at least find a place to live. It was so tempting to press one of them.

And say what when someone picked up? Hi, I'm the dead friend of a dead friend? Yeah, that was never going to work. Plus, they were Ichigo's friends; Renji had no right to just call them and demand help.

Then again, Ichigo had said that Renji would have to be the one to talk to them, since he had a gigai and Ichigo didn't. So maybe calling was the right thing to do.

Except he still didn't have a clue what to say.

Slapping the heel of his hand against his forehead, Renji cursed under his breath and tried to still his spinning thoughts. He should wait until Ichigo came back. He'd promised it'd be as soon as possible, and Renji could wait. He could. They managed this long, a few more days wasn't going to break them.

"It's not that I don't want you to know."

The words were so quiet, and yet so loud in the silence, that for a second Renji felt complete disoriented. When he looked over at the futon, he could just see Byakuya's face, shadowed beneath the blanket.

"I thought you'd gone back to sleep," he said, because he wasn't up for touching that last bit. Not right now. If they got into it again, there was going to be one hell of a fight.

The blanket slid from Byakuya's hair and shoulders as he propped himself up on one elbow and with his gaze still fixed on the mattress, said, "I can't. There's too much space inside my head. When I try to sleep, I end up wandering in circles." 

That sounded horribly familiar. Renji might manage to sleep more than Byakuya but that didn't mean he was doing it well. 

He huffed out a breath. "I get that," he said. "You want to spar or something?" Not with swords, obviously, but Renji for one could do with some physical exercise. Preferably of the kind that involved running for miles under an endless blue sky, but right now, he'd take anything on offer.

"Maybe," Byakuya replied, shrugging the blanket down further until only his hips were covered. 

Except that. Anything but that.

It wasn't lack of desire. Damn it, even after dropping a few pounds, Byakuya was still gorgeous, and it'd take more than that to turn Renji off. Not only was he well-trained to respond when Byakuya wanted sex, he loved the guy, which made it really hard to say no.

It was what might go hand in hand with the sex that made Renji's heart freeze and his hands start to shake.

"Please?" Now the bastard raised his head, and those eyes… They were gonna be the death of Renji some time soon, because no one should have eyes like that. It was like someone had reached inside Byakuya and torn part of him right out, and all he was asking from Renji was a bit of solace. A haven in the sea of despair.

Renji swallowed hard and tried to rationalise. He was over-reacting. It had only happened once. Maybe this time it'd be different. Maybe this time, it'd just be sex.

Tugging at his shirt ties, he crawled towards the bed. Byakuya welcomed him beneath the blanket with a heated, hungry kiss, and hands that twined up the back of his neck to brush across the short hairs there. Renji shuddered, feeling himself start to come apart already. 

He yanked on his shirts, suddenly desperate to be rid of them, only to find they were loose enough to slide off anyway. The air felt cool on over-heated skin. With a shiver, he crept closer, pushing Byakuya backwards onto the bed until they were both sprawled across the full width of the mattress. 

Beneath him, Byakuya was pressing up against his weight, testing it, it felt like. Renji leaned heavier, giving him what he wanted as the kiss deepened, Renji now getting full access to Byakuya's mouth. He teased with short gentle strokes of his tongue across Byakuya's palate and felt him shudder in response, hardening already against Renji's leg. 

When they parted to breathe, Renji panted, "Who's topping?" before diving back in again, because that would be a pretty good indicator of what Byakuya wanted. The surge of relief he felt when Byakuya muttered, "I am," against his lips, was ruined when, a couple of minutes later, Byakuya pushed him away, handed over the cheap plastic tube of lubricant, and said, "Ride me."

Months ago, in what felt like a different life, Renji would have relished the opportunity. It combined his two favourite things; the chance to give Byakuya a show, with a semblance of being in control. Sex didn't get much better than that. 

Now, Renji would rather be on his back, his scars safely hidden, while Byakuya fucked him. Still, it beat the alternative, which Renji absolutely refused to linger on. This time, it would be different.

Scooping out a generous dollop of lube, he rose to his knees and reached behind himself, working a single finger, and then two, into his body, hyper-conscious of Byakuya's eyes on him all the time. It made his skin prickle and his dick harden, and he chewed on his lip, trying to distract himself from the heated caress of those eyes. 

It worked, up to a point, until Byakuya's hand wrapping around his cock nearly brought everything to a screeching halt as Renji's body clamped down around his own fingers, his hips jerking into the touch. 

"Fuck," he gasped, shuddering all over, one hand pressed to Byakuya's chest for balance, the other tucked behind him. The tip of his cock throbbed as Byakuya rubbed a thumb over it, pressing against the slit in a way that made Renji want to curl up and die, or maybe scream with pleasure.

"Keep going," Byakuya said, his tone the sort of commanding purr that always turned Renji on. Back before, he'd used it a lot, but now this was the only time Renji heard it, and that alone was enough to make him want to fuck as often as possible.

Gulping a breath or two, Renji resisted the urge to say, "Yes, sir," and flattened his palm against his ass, pushing his fingers deep inside. It was impossible to put any decent pressure on his prostate from this angle, but his fingertips grazed across it and Renji couldn't contain the groan that tore from his throat at the sensation.

"Again," Byakuya said.

Renji did as he was told, fucking himself with his fingers as Byakuya's hand stroked slowly over his cock. The other slid up Renji's thigh, thumb brushing briefly over his balls, and then up to his chest. When it looked like it might creep higher still, Renji faltered for a second, before taking the initiative and catching it up, lacing their fingers together and using their joined hands to balance himself. 

Now he could relax, and he did so easily, falling into the rhythm of fingers and hands, rocking between the two sources of pleasure, secure in the knowledge that Byakuya's hands couldn't stray.

It might have been moments later, or minutes, maybe, Renji wasn't sure, when he heard Byakuya say, "Enough. I need to be inside you, now."

Renji's eyes fluttered open, searching for a decent level of lucidity alongside the passion in Byakuya's expression. He found it, though Byakuya's eyes were hungry and possessive, enough to make it uncomfortable to keep eye contact for very long.

Looking away, Renji slipped his fingers free, wiped them on the sheet, then reached back between his legs for Byakuya's dick. It filled his hand, hot and ready, the skin softly damp, the tip wet. He lined it up, and began to sink down, the urge to take it all in one long thrust making him shake.

The sudden tightening of the hand on his dick brought him up short. "Slowly," Byakuya ordered.

Eyes closed, and head tipped back as he panted, Renji did his best to obey, clenching his thighs and making himself feel every moment. The intensity of it was like burning, Byakuya's hands the only anchor to the real world as his body slowly opened, stretched, and filled. Loosed-jawed, he whimpered, the sound forced out by Byakuya's gradual, unstoppable, invasion of his body until finally, eventually, he could go no further. 

He shivered. Skin to skin, the scars on his ass felt strange pressed against Byakuya's thighs, but it was a familiar strangeness, one he was slowly getting used to. 

"Look at me." Byakuya's voice, husky and deep, drew Renji's gaze to his face.

Byakuya's eyes met his hungrily, the inner emptiness now all turned into appetite. It was a predator's gaze; intense, focused, driven, and made Renji want to hide inside himself to escape the power of it. 

He held it for as long as he could, before looking away with a croaked, "I can't." 

Reiatsu rose around them as Byakuya fingers closed on Renji's chin, forcing his head back round. "Look at me," he said again, and no, this was not supposed to happen this time.

Despite Renji commanding his body not to co-operate, his eyes still opened, as did his mouth when Byakuya pressed a thumb against his lips. It slid past his teeth to stroke against his tongue and Renji couldn't stop a shudder of pure arousal at the sensation. Byakuya's reiatsu seemed to caress him, hold him, the points of contact between them blurring to become points of control.

"You see," Byakuya said, his voice coming from a long way away. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

And Renji wanted to believe that. With all his heart, he wanted to believe that. His thighs flexed and he rose higher onto his knees before sinking back down. For the briefest second, Byakuya's eyes fluttered closed in pleasure and Renji almost found a way back to himself, and then the bonds snapped into place like puppet strings around his limbs, and he was moving exactly how Byakuya wanted.

With increasing speed, he began fucking himself on Byakuya's cock. It was good, in a way, if he could bring himself to ignore the helplessness of it. Byakuya wasn't being cruel. The hands roaming Renji's body were gentle and considerate, teasing him to greater heights. Fingers pinched at nipples, tugging and rolling them to just the right side of too much. Nails scratched at itches lying deeper than skin, leaving behind lines of red that mapped every place he wanted to be touched.

Except, he couldn't stop any of it from happening. Byakuya's reiatsu was everywhere. In him, through him. Filling his head and his body, insidious rather than crushing, brushing up against his own in a way that could have been encouraging if Renji had had the strength to respond. He didn't. His reiatsu was still a fraction of Byakuya's and he could neither meet nor match him.

Instead, he was swept away, a leaf in a whirlpool being dragged down, pleasure turning his limbs to lead and head to blurry desire. Ignored and untouched, his cock bounced against his belly as he was pushed faster, muscles burning and sweat pouring from his body. Beneath him, Byakuya was moving too, thrusting up to meet Renji's downward plunging, their bodies colliding in slapping skin and Byakuya's deepening, heartfelt groans. 

Similar sounds backed up in Renji's throat, cries of desperation, begging, pleading, all trapped by the grip Byakuya had around his body. Tears spilt down his cheeks as his balls pulled tight, pre-cum leaving streaks on his belly as Byakuya grabbed his hips and pounded up into him, his own face a mask of desperate driven hunger. 

For a second, Renji felt like Byakuya was trying to break him open and pull him apart, that maybe getting so far inside someone would fix whatever the hunger was consuming him, and then Byakuya's reiatsu surged. 

Hit by the full force of it, Renji's vision darkened, and then he was coming, shoved over the edge without even a chance to resist, his orgasm torn out of him in seizing muscles and sharp cries, in long spurts of cum that spattered his chest and Byakuya's as he fell forwards, his whole body shaking with the force of it. 

But Byakuya wasn't stopping. Instead, he rolled them, pressing Renji's knees apart and kept going. Too much, too hard. His reiatsu swamping Renji, pressing him down, and flaying open his most hidden places. Head reeling, Renji reached for some semblance of control, and thought he had it, only to feel it slip through his fingers as ephemeral as clouds, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. 

Byakuya's reiatsu flowed through the gap, a touch that penetrated deep inside Renji's soul, somewhere no one but Renji should be able to go. 

Gasping, Renji struggled, pushing at Byakuya's shoulders, aware that he had to get free. Byakuya's expression was distant, consumed by whatever he was doing that was making Renji feel torn open and pried apart. He was right, Byakuya was trying to break him open, but why. What was he looking for?

The touch came again, this time more insistent, grasping, and Renji's whole body shook, a cry tearing loose from his chest as deep inside him Zabimaru howled. And no way, no way was this happening. That in there was out of bounds. Byakuya could do what he liked to Renji, but Zabimaru was not a part of it. Not now, not ever, and definitely not when they couldn't defend themselves thanks to the fucking seal.

Summoning up every scrap of defiance and energy he had left, Renji lashed out wildly, catching Byakuya a solid blow to the side of the head. Byakuya slumped sideways, the power of his reiatsu vanishing from inside Renji as it lost its focus, dissipating into nothing.

Shoving Byakuya right off him, Renji scrambled away, his hands shaking as he jammed his ass against the wall and stared at Byakuya who was still lying face-down on the futon. For the longest second, he couldn't do anything but stare, his brain wouldn't let him. But then thoughts slowly began creeping back.

Had he managed to knock Byakuya unconscious? Renji really hoped so. The bastard deserved it.

And what the hell had that been anyway? 

Worse than last time, that was for sure. Then, it had just been Byakuya's reiatsu and the control thing, only with Renji topping and Byakuya keeping him going way past the point of pleasure. This time there had definitely been more going on.

Unless that's what he'd been been after doing back then and hadn't been able to? 

Either way, it didn't matter. Whatever Byakuya had been trying needed not to happen again, and the only way Renji knew of preventing it was by not being around when he woke up. Which meant, right now, he was only slowing himself down.

Keeping his eyes glued to the still-unmoving Byakuya, Renji groped one-handed for the mobile on the table, scrabbling it into his hand, and hit Arisawa's number on speed-dial, willing the call to go through quickly. 

"Moshi moshi?" 

The old man's voice sounded small and far away, not much of a defence in the greater scheme of things, and especially not against an irate Byakuya. Renji swallowed hard and said, "Arisawa-san, it's Renji. I know you only came by yesterday, but I really need get out again."

There was silence for a second, and then Arisawa said, "Is everything all right?"

Renji let out a little laugh that was supposed to sound casual and probably skewed way too close to hysterical for comfort. "Yeah, fine. Just… Byakuya had one of his turns again." 

Renji had never given the old man details of the first one; he had some pride left, damn it; but Arisawa-san was a wily old bird and about as perceptive as they came, so he'd probably guessed anyway. 

"I'll be right there," Arisawa said immediately, and Renji heard him moving. He was about to hang up when Arisawa continued, "Can you get him into a gigai? At least then you'd be stronger than him and he wouldn't be able to overwhelm you so easily."

Which Renji would have thought of, if he hadn't been shivering butt-naked against the wall feeling sorry for himself. 

Cursing silently in his head, Renji replied, "Good idea, doc. I'll get right on it."

Pressing the disconnect, Renji calculated his chances. Byakuya still hadn't moved, but it had to be just a matter of time. Renji hadn't hit him hard enough to knock him out for long, which meant he could be awake and ready to go again any moment.

Shooting to his feet, Renji leapt across the futon and dove into the storage cupboard. Piled inside were his and Byakuya's gigai, with Zabimaru stashed safely behind them. He hauled both fake bodies out, propped his own against the wall and slid his zanpakutō through his belt, before turning to face the futon again with Byakuya's gigai under his arm.

Now all he had to do was get Byakuya into it without waking him up. A feat easier said than done, unless… 

Renji blinked as a sudden thought occurred to him. Could he use kidō? 

It couldn't be high level; currently Renji didn't have the power for it; but with Byakuya already unconscious, even a lower level one might be enough to keep him under while Renji wrestled him into a gigai

Taking a deep breath, Renji gave the figure on the bed serious contemplation. The idea had possibilities. And it sure as hell beat waiting for Byakuya to come round and take another shot at him. Because if he did, Renji didn't think he had much reiatsu left to fight back with. 

As it turned out, lack of reiatsu wasn't a problem. Focusing enough to actually use it, was. When the kidō dissipated from his fingers for the fourth time, Renji had no choice but to take a break and think through what was actually going wrong.

The trouble was, Byakuya might be brain-addled and half-insane, but he was still Renji's captain, still the man Renji had sworn to protect with his life, and punching him in the head in the heat of the moment wasn't the same as deliberately keeping him unconscious so he could be trapped inside a fake body. Even if it was for everyone's benefit, including Byakuya's.

Which was the whole point, really. 

Despite Renji's anger, in his heart he knew that whatever Byakuya had been trying to do, it hadn't been consciously malicious. For one thing, Byakuya'd looked totally out of it. And for another, he might be all sorts of things, dodgy about consent amongst them, but Byakuya wasn't the sort of guy who ripped a person's soul apart. If he was going to take you out, he'd make it quick. It was a matter of pride for him.

So, if and when Byakuya woke up, he was probably going to be just as upset by what had happened as Renji was. 

Maybe.

Or maybe he'd have gone completely round the twist and come up fighting.

At this point, it really was better to be safe than sorry.

This time when Renji summoned the reiatsu, it came easily. Muttering the words of the incantation under his breath, he edged towards the futon, leaving it to the last possible moment before lunging forward, pressing hands to Byakuya's eyes and rattling out, "Bakudō 16, Madoromi." Slumber; not the most powerful of kidō, but hopefully powerful enough.

If Byakuya had been on the verge of coming round, he didn't show it. Despite being hit by the kidō, his breathing remained slow and steady, his face just as relaxed as it had been before.

Still unconscious, or?

Renji didn't dare wait to find out. He rolled Byakuya over onto his back then proceeded to tug, shove, press and finally haul so hard he almost dislocated his own shoulder, until, with a kind of flowing pop, Byakuya bonded properly with the gigai and the fake body 'came alive'.

With a huff of relief, Renji thumped back on his heels. Once synchronised to a person, the Quincy designed gigai didn't just feel a hundred times better than the meat-suits the 12th made, they came with the massive bonus of locking the wearer's reiatsu away while they were wearing it. 

Which was the whole point of getting Byakuya into one as quickly as possible, since, without reiatsu, Byakuya would be no stronger than any human, and Renji was pretty sure that, given their comparative sizes, he could beat Byakuya hands down in a fair fight. 

The trick now was to keep it fair, and for that Renji needed to take custody of one more piece of equipment. He turned, yanked open the top drawer of the cupboard behind him and grabbed the single white glove that lay just inside. It didn't look like much, but without it, and its inherent Quincy ability to loosen reishi bonds, Byakuya would be trapped inside that gigai forever. 

As Renji slid into his own gigai, he gave some serious thought to just taking the glove and running, never looking back. The memory of Byakuya's reiatsu touching inside his soul lingered, way worse than the ache in his ass. But he couldn't. Byakuya had risked everything to get Renji out of Seireitei, including, somehow, Senbonzakura, and the more Renji thought about it, the more he was sure it was the loss of his zanpakutō that was screwing with Byakuya's head. Which meant some of this mess was Renji's responsibility to deal with too. 

So, he wouldn't be running away. But he couldn't hang around either. Not right now. He needed to get out for a few hours, and while he was learning to breathe again, he could make inroads into some of their other arrangements. Because one thing was for absolute certain: they couldn't continue to live in the hidden room. These gigai needed sunlight and proper food to thrive. The time had come to contact Ichigo's friends and find a way to move on.


	4. Electric Fist: Intro

The safe-room's hatchway opened on a very flushed and worried Arisawa-sensei, who puffed, "I got here as soon as I could, Renji-kun. Did he hurt you? Do you need help?"

"No," Renji shot back, ducking past the old man and heading straight for the door. It was embarrassing enough that he was running away without the doctor getting all fussy over him.

Of course, Arisawa wasn't gonna let him off that easily. His concerned voice followed Renji across the room, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impugn your prowess as a warrior, but even I can tell that Byakuya has far more power than you do currently, and after last time-"

"I said, I'm fine!" Renji's fingers tightened on the door jamb. He just wanted out, that wasn't difficult, was it? But since apparently a quick brush off wasn't going to cut it, he added by way of explanation, "I punched him in the head before he could do anything too bad."

That seemed to be enough. Arisawa nodded slowly, his gaze returning to the still open hatchway. "And Byakuya?"

"In a gigai. Sleeping." In a moment of weakness, Renji had checked. Just a press of fingers to Byakuya's pulse; strong and steady; and a second to watch the regular rise and fall of his chest. "I used kidō. He'll be fine."

"Good," Arisawa said, looking reassured. "In any case, I'll wait with him. Someone should be around when he wakes up, just to be sure."

Renji frowned, not liking that scenario at all. "That's probably not a good idea, ojii-san. He might not be as strong in a gigai, but he could still take you apart in seconds."

Arisawa looked shocked for a moment. "Ah, my honour," he gasped, "and after I apologised for insulting you, as well."

"Oi, I didn't mean-" Renji scrambled, before he noticed the twinkle in the old man's eye. Then he subsided with a tsk. It was pretty unlikely that Byakuya would attack Arisawa anyway, the only person he'd shown any sign of aggression towards was Renji, but even so, "Don't blame me if he gets the drop on you then."

"I have this, if he tries," Arisawa replied, taking a small container from his pocket and waving it around. "Courtesy of my lovely but ever practical granddaughter. I'm sure it would have done nothing before, but now he's in a gigai, a face full of pepper spray will slow even Byakuya down enough for me to get away."

Ouch, yeah, that'd do it. "Just make sure if you do, you lock the door after you. I don't wanna come back here and find you a smear on the floor." It was bad enough the old man had lost his home from being involved with them, let alone his life as well. Though, with what he'd survived so far, he'd proved himself pretty resilient for a human. Maybe it was hanging around with Quincy, or the higher than average spiritual pressure that made him harder to damage and quicker to heal.

Arisawa's expression took on a more serious cast. "Are you likely to be out for long, if you don't mind me asking?"

"A few hours," Renji replied, patting his back pocket where the mobile phone rested beside the glove. "Got a couple of folks to track down." He forced a smile that was meant to be reassuring. "Now I'm all healed up, I reckon it's about time we struck out on our own, ya know. Stopped relying on you for everything."

The relief on Arisawa's face and the speed of his, "Only if you're absolutely sure," was all the confirmation Renji needed that he was doing the right thing.

"I am, ojii-san," he said, with a dip of his head. He wouldn't embarrass either of them with talk of debts owed, but he determined then and there to find some way of paying the doctor back, even if it was in the next life. 

"Then I'll wait here till you return," Arisawa said, bringing the conversation to an end by ducking through the hatchway.

Renji shoved a couple of the lightweight boxes back in front of open door, on the off chance one of the maintenance staff did a spot check, and then set off up through the building, being sure to tug the hood on his black sweater down to hide his tattoos before he reached the more populated levels. 

There wasn't much he could do about his height, apart from shove his hands deep into his pockets and slouch, but that combination of strategies worked well enough to get him out of the building with only a few suspicious looks and a couple of mothers yanking their kids away from him. And honestly, reactions like that made Renji feel at home. Though at least back in Seireitei, the people who ran scared of him did it with good reason, and not just because he looked different. 

He'd been planning on making the call from just outside the hospital building, but one frown from the security guard was enough to keep Renji moving. He cut across the parking area, hopped over the back fence and dropped down into the railway cutting below. A quick glance left and right, since oncoming trains wouldn't pass straight through him anymore, and he shot across the tracks, scrambled up the far bank and emerged a few hundred yards from the river. 

This was the place Renji came most often when he was able to get away. It was open and uncluttered, and there weren't often many humans around, at least not this time of the year, which meant he could walk and appreciate the freedom without having to worry about being seen.

Hopping over and around puddles, he made his way along the river bank to the nearest bridge, where he stopped and propped one foot on the graffiti scrawled wall as he tugged the phone out of his pocket and glared down at the little screen. 

According to Ichigo, Mizuiro was the guy he needed to get onside, but Renji was no closer to working out what he was supposed to say to get that to happen than he had been before. Which meant he had a choice. He could either stand here and agonise over it all, or he could just make the call and come up with answers on the fly.

With a curl of his lip, Renji pushed off the wall, hit speed dial and raised the phone to his ear. 

Rather than the cheerful, "Moshi, moshi," he'd been expecting, a flat male voice answered, saying, "Whoever this is, you have exactly ten seconds to identify yourself and tell me how you got this number before I contact the police."

Renji's brain kind of froze up, not having a clue what to say. Luckily his mouth had no such reservations. "Ichigo," he blurted. "Kurosaki Ichigo gave me the number. I'm Abarai Renji. I'm…" Friend? Lover? No, neither of those would do. Ichigo was dead for crap's sake. "Ichigo's cousin. _Was_ his cousin," he qualified quickly.

"Ichigo's cousin?" the guy said. "Are you related to the Ishida?"

That at least was solid ground. Renji wasn't, and never would be, a Quincy. "No," Renji replied. "On his dad's side. My erm…" He cringed and improvised, "step-father and his were brothers?" Which was stretching the truth way beyond believable but it would have to do.

For a long moment nothing but silence came from the other end of the phone and then, "And you say Ichigo gave you this number?"

"Yeah." Renji took a breath. This was where he tried playing his hand. "You're Mizuiro, right? He always said you were the guy to see if I ever needed help in Tokyo. So anyway, here I am, kind of in a bit of a jam and I thought, even though Ichigo's not around anymore, maybe you could help?" And yeah, that wasn't lame in the slightest. 

"I see. Where did you say you were from again?"

He hadn't, and now only one place name stuck in Renji's head. The name of the city where they'd first arrived. "Matsuyama."

"I… see." Another pause, then, "I'm surprised you didn't try Arisawa-san first. She was much closer to Ichigo than myself."

Was this some kind of test? "I did, but she's out of town at the moment," he said. And had been since the day after the run in with her friend the arrancar, according to her grandfather. 

"Of course, of course! My apologies, Abarai-san!" Now bright and bubbly, the voice on the other end of the phone had changed completely. "I didn't mean to sound so paranoid, but you can't be too careful in these days of identity theft." Renji could practically hear the smile on the guy's face as he continued, "It'd be an honour to meet Ichigo's cousin from the country. Where are you? Can you get to Karakura Town yourself, or do you need help?"

"Erm… I'm actually in Karakura now," Renji replied a bit taken aback by the sudden personality shift. And what the hell was identity theft anyhow?

"You are? Excellent. Where can we meet?"

Renji racked his brain for somewhere he knew that Mizuiro might know as well and came up with only one place that wasn't actually the hospital. "There's a convenience store across the tracks from the hospital-" he began.

"I know the one," Mizuiro said immediately, and Renji could hear the sound of doors opening and closing in the background, like maybe someone grabbing a coat. "I'll see you there in about twenty minutes."

"Oh, erm… thanks," Renji said and lifted his hand to disconnect the call. As he did so, Mizuiro said suddenly, "Oh, one last thing, Abarai-san. How will I recognise you?"

That made Renji bark out a laugh. "Good catch. I'll be the guy in a black hoodie and jeans hanging around outside the store getting dirty looks from the cashier," he said.

As it turned out, he wasn't far off the mark. After finding enough change in his pocket to buy a couple of red-bean anpan and a can of green tea, Renji wandered out of the convenience store, away from the manager's suspicious gaze, to find somewhere to wait for Mizuiro. The corner of the building offered a bit of shelter from the wind and a ledge to park his ass on, and he watched the sun go down behind the trees as he ate.

It was quiet, kind of peaceful, even relaxing. He was just brushing the crumbs off his jeans when a blue car slowed to a stop a few yards down. Renji perked up immediately. Mizuiro hadn't said he was coming by car, but then again he hadn't said he wasn't either. A moment later, the car's passenger side door popped open, so Renji headed on over.

Leaning down to peer inside, it was immediately apparent that this wasn't the guy he was waiting for. Not unless Mizuiro came with big tits and wore lipstick, and Renji thought Ichigo might have mentioned if he did. 

"Hey," Renji said anyway, offering a smile to the young woman behind the wheel. "You need some help?"

She squinted up at him through red-framed glasses that almost matched her hair. "Abarai Renji-san?" she asked.

"Yeah," Renji replied with a frown, because suddenly this was starting to feel off. 

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Renji spun, caught a glimpse of a pale face beneath a dark baseball cap and something sparking bright blue before pain exploded in his hip, wave after wave of it that shot through his whole body making him jerk and twitch like a fish on a pole. 

Electricity, he thought as his knees failed and he fell forwards, smacking his head on the side of the car. 

The world kind of stuttered, shifting in jerks of pain and movement. Someone grabbed his arms, someone else his legs, and he was being shoved and pushed. Into the car? It was impossible to say. The gigai was malfunctioning, or maybe Renji was. Pain still racked through him, making it hard to do more than gasp for breath. Noise spun around him. A door slamming? People yelling. Maybe him too. His throat felt like it. Burning sore and clicking dry, even as drool spilled down his chin. Then everything swayed, back and then forward, side to side. The car pulling away? 

He couldn't see to know, and couldn't tell if that was because his eyes were closed or if they were open and just not working. But he knew when something was slipped over his head, by the smell more than anything. Kind of plasticy with overtones of sweetness. He tried to move and felt a sudden pressure in the middle of his lower back. A knee? Could be. Leaden tingling hands were tugged up behind him, something wrapped around the wrists, tying them together. 

Face turned to the side, he lay, coughing and twitching, willing himself to just move, damn it! until eventually some of the noise stopped, along with the juddering beneath him. The car engine being switched off, it had to be. 

A metallic clunk, then the quality of the light changed very slightly, and he was being moved again, yanked backwards this time, out of the car.

His feet hit the ground and his knees buckled. Someone yelled, "Catch him!" and hands grabbed him under the arms, dragging him upright, legs like jelly as they made him walk. Gravel scuffed under his boots, then concrete steps. Sound changed, became echo-y. Inside, but a large space. And someone was breathing fast, close to him, panting like they'd run for miles. Scared? Could be. Should be. 

His toe jammed against something on the floor. Renji staggered but managed to right himself with a grunt as the person beside him yelped, "Shit! He's coming round!" 

A few more stumbling steps, pushed and hurried, Renji jerking against the hands holding him, trying to slow them down. Then pressure suddenly butting up against the back of knees and someone shoving on his shoulders. He fell, toppled like a tree, the seat smacking him hard in the ass and back, only to end up bent forwards again the next second, the heavy pressure on the back of his neck enough to make his spine burn as his hands were jerked up high behind him for a moment before being tugged apart. 

Feeling flooded back into them, heat flushing right to the tips of his fingers. A rumbling growl built in Renji's chest, but before he could do anything useful, like smack the living shit out of someone, the thing over his head was grabbed and he was hauled upright, spine straining the other way now, his hips lifting, trying to stop the discomfort as his hands were thunked down onto what? The arms of the chair, maybe? and held in place by someone muttering a constant litany of, "Shit, shit, shit." 

A stretching cloth sound was followed by sticky against his skin, and they were taping him to the fucking chair, the assholes. Round and round it went. Arms, legs, chest, and all Renji could do was sit there like a moron, muscles still twitching. Though at least the pain was beginning to fade. He could breathe deeper and his head was starting to clear. That was good, because once he had proper control back, he was going show these jerks why it was a really bad move to try and kidnap a fucking shinigami! 

"That'll do," a female voice said eventually, when Renji was pretty sure he resembled a mummy with the amount of tape they'd wrapped round him. "He'd have to be super-human to get out of that."

Better be careful what you wish for, sweetheart, Renji thought with a curl of his lip, looking forward to the shock and awe when he smashed their little trap to pieces. 

"Do I want to know how you know that? No, No, I really don't!"

That was scaredy-pants. Which accounted for two of the three people in the room. Was the other one Mizuiro? Because as far as Renji knew, humans didn't go around randomly grabbing each other off the street like this, which meant he was the most likely person to be behind this dumbass trick.

"Can you hear me, Abarai-san?" 

Renji twitched at the sound of Mizuiro's voice coming from so close. Damn stupid reiatsu-blocking gigai. With this bag, or whatever it was, over his head, he'd not realised the guy was standing right in front of him. 

"If you can, please answer me. I have no desire to hurt you, but I do need your co-operation."

Co-operation! Screw that. "Could've asked 'fore ya 'lectrocuted me," Renji slurred. His voice was croaky and his tongue sore. He must have bitten it when his muscles were spasming. Guess he should be grateful he hadn't pissed himself.

"Good, you can talk. In that case, I see no point in delaying this any further." A hand patted Renji's knee in a brisk kind of a way and for a brief surreal moment Renji had a flash of Kurotsuchi, always so business-like even when he was about to go after you with a scalpel. Was this guy another one? 

Renji's shoulders were tensing before he could tell himself he was being dumb. This guy was Ichigo's friend. Ichigo hated the likes of Kurotsuchi. He'd never send Renji to someone like that.

But how well had Ichigo known Mizuiro, really? People hid their true natures when it suited them. Look at Urahara when he visited the camps, pockets full of candy to lull kids into thinking he was safe, harmless. Lured them away and the next time you saw 'em, they had hollow eyes and ripped people apart for fun.

And Ichigo had trusted Urahara. Even knowing what he was.

Fuck.

No way was Renji sitting here waiting to be taken apart.

With a growl, he tugged against the arms of the chair, expecting the wood to give way easily. It didn't. Even when he tried again, desperation starting to rise in his throat, it still held. 

How? Was it some kind of reiatsu-reinforced material? Were these people in cahoots with Seireitei?

Renji yanked harder, setting the chair rocking, his growl mutating into a deep snarl. He was trapped. Held down. Blinded. He had to fight, had to escape. Around him, voices rose in tremulous concern and he heard something slam. The door? Maybe. Which meant he had a limited time to get away. 

This time he used his whole body strength, shoulders straining and thighs bulging as he levered with everything he had, the skin on his arms ripping against the inside of the tape.

And still the wood held.

"Abarai-san, please stop! You know it's not possible to break the tape that way."

But it should be. He was shinigami, not human. His strength was fifty times theirs. A hundred. Even without his reiatsu. He might be weak compared to Byakuya but-

Realisation crashed over Renji. He'd forgotten about the gigai! Stuck inside this damned fake body, he was by all the measures that counted, human.

Human, and a prisoner of other humans who had him tightly secured. Which meant that right now he was powerless, and Renji knew exactly what to do when he was powerless.

He stopped fighting. The chair legs thumped back to the floor and someone nearby let out a nervous laugh, saying, "Looks like he's given up. Shit, I really thought he was going to get away for a minute then."

"Not possible," Mizuiro replied, "However stay on your guard. He's nothing like as subdued as you think."

Clever guy. He was right too. Renji had no intention of giving up, but he wasn't stupid. When you had no chance at all, there was no point in keeping fighting. Far better to step back and wait for an opportunity to attack. It'd come, sooner or later, and all he needed was a chance to get hold of the glove in his back pocket. If he could get out of this gigai, these chumps wouldn't stand a chance against him.

Zabimaru's distant grumbling confirmed for Renji that he was doing the right thing. Now the only question was, what would he have to suffer through before his chance came. Last time it had been Kurotsuchi's machines followed by a whipping. These human's would be hard-pressed to come up with anything worse than that.

Lifting his chin, Renji said, "So, what are you guys after then? 'Cause I'm telling ya, I ain't easy to break."

"Oh, you so do not want to make that a challenge!" the woman said.

"Chizuru, please!" Ah, now she had a name. Useful. 

"No, not this time, Mizuiro," Chizuru shot back. "I want to know what he had to do with Hime's death, and I will do anything, _anything_ , it takes to find out the truth."

"I don't know any Hime, but I knew a Chizuru once," Renji lied. "Good girl, died badly. A lot of screaming involved." If they were gonna treat him like he was dangerous, he might as well play up to it.

The room went quiet for a long second, then scared guy stuttered, "I-I'm just gonna go watch the door, okay?"

"Yes, go. Thanks, Keigo," Mizuiro said with an edge to his tone that suggested he might have asked the guy to leave if he hadn't volunteered. 

A moment later, the string around Renji's neck was loosened and the bag yanked off his head, his hood sliding back with it. Musty air stinking of damp concrete and piss flooded his nose as sudden light blinded him. He flinched, closing his eyes against the glare of what had to be some kind of hand-held lamp, and heard Chizuru hiss, "Look at all those tattoos. You don't think he's-"

"Even if he is, it doesn't matter," Mizuiro interrupted, stepping out of the shadows. "Nothing does except getting to the truth."

Renji's gaze flicked towards him. He didn't know what he'd been expecting of his kidnapper, some kind of thug maybe, but whatever it was, Mizuiro met it, redefined it, and surpassed it, the second Renji saw him. The guy was short and about as ordinary looking as you could want with his straight dark hair and eyes, but he exuded the kind of deadly intensity that Renji had learnt over the years to recognise and avoid. 

Human or not, this was not a guy to be messed with, because he would stop at nothing to mess with you back. 

In a voice full of deadly calm, Mizuiro began to speak. "About four years ago, a friend of ours, Inoue Orihime was killed. They said she died of a heart attack, but she was fifteen. Fifteen, Abarai-san. Fifteen year old girls don't normally die of heart attacks, not when they're asleep in bed."

Inoue Orihime? They thought he had something to do with the arrancar's death? 

"That-" Renji began, only to be spoken over as Mizuiro continued, "But Tatsuki was with her at the time, and since she didn't claim foul play, no matter what we said, the police weren't interested." As he spoke, Mizuiro began to pace. 

"A couple of weeks later, another friend, Sado Yasutora, was killed in a freak accident. To be honest, at the time we were all so upset about Orihime that we didn't bother to investigate what had happened. But later," Mizuiro stopped and levelled a look at Renji, " _much later_ , I managed to get a look at the autopsy report. Sado's body was covered in cuts and bruises, like he'd been beaten or maybe tortured before he died."

Sado was bird-boy, Renji was pretty certain about that, though he had no clue how the guy had died, if it hadn't been while rescuing his pet bird from falling beer barrels. It hadn't come up in any of the brief conversations they'd had.

"Ichigo said-" he tried, but again Mizuiro wasn't stopping. He started pacing again.

"About eighteen months ago, Ishida Uryū and his father disappeared. Their car was parked by the river, no bodies were ever found. It was as if they'd vanished into thin air."

They kind of had, since the 12th had snatched them. Renji huffed, but didn't try answering. He was pretty sure what was coming next and he wasn't disappointed.

"Then last year, Kurosaki Ichigo and his whole family were killed in a house-fire." Mizuiro stopped in front of him and bent over at the waist, like a bow but with intent to kill. Renji tried to lean back, couldn't, and ended up face to face with the guy. "Are you seeing a pattern yet, Abarai-san?"

Well, yeah, it was Ichigo and his huge reiatsu, but no way were these guys going to believe that. 

Mizuiro spun away again, hands clasped behind him, strides long and deliberate. "Which brings us to last month, when Arisawa-sensei's apartment exploded and he was almost killed. The authorities are blaming a gas explosion and I almost believed them until you, Abarai-san," — he spun back around — "suddenly, out of the blue, call me on a phone I haven't used in almost a year, and tell me you're Ichigo's cousin, from Matsuyama."

Smaller, slower steps brought him towards Renji again as he continued, "Now the phone thing I can excuse if it was Ichigo who gave you the number before he died. But the cousin story is a lie. Ichigo only had one cousin, Ishida Uryū. His father was an only child and an orphan. I know that because Kurosaki-san himself told me. So, Abarai-san…" 

They were toe to toe, Renji craning his neck back to keep their gazes locked, 'cause no way was he losing sight of this guy. He liked his bits on the inside, thank you. "What I want to know is…" Twin thuds, and Mizuiro's face was right in Renji's own, their noses almost touching, his hands gripping Renji's arms through the tape, "Who are you and what have got to do with the murders of my friends?" 

Guilt at his role in the deaths of Ichigo and family stopped Renji denying any involvement at all, but he did his best to duck the rest of it. "I wasn't even here when most of those people died," he snapped. "For all I know, you're making all this shit up."

"He's not!" Chizuru said, the lamp in her hand waving as she stomped forwards. "All that stuff happened, and you're involved somewhere, I know it! People with tattoos like those are always criminal-."

"Chizuru, shut up!"

That wasn't Mizuiro. Renji twisted round, peering into the shadows, trying to see who'd spoken. It'd sounded a bit like the scared guy, Keigo, Mizuiro had called him, but he didn't sound scared now.

"Mizuiro, you need to take Chizuru and get out of here, right now."

"What? Why?" Mizuiro immediately shot back.

"Because this guy isn't what you think he is. He's way more dangerous than that."

No, scratch that. Keigo did sound terrified, but the kind of terrified that had been faced down and dealt with. What Mizuiro had in intent, this guy matched it in courage and then some. 

He stepped into the light, and suddenly Renji understood exactly what was going on, because the guy Mizuiro called Keigo was none other than the kid Renji had terrified in the plane bathroom on the way to Tokyo. In other words, he knew what Renji was, and what he was capable of doing.

Keigo's eyes met his for a brief second and Renji didn't even try and prevent the toothy grin that stretched his lips as Mizuiro said, "More dangerous than a yakuza hitman?"

Now he had a bit of leverage on his side, Renji was quite prepared to use it. "Compared to me, yakuza hitmen are a bunch of pussies, kid," he snarled, then jerked his head at Keigo. "Why don't ya tell him what I really am?"

The kid paled and looked away, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets. Mizuiro's gaze flicked between him and Renji. "What's he talking about? Keigo, have you met him before?"

Keigo's gaze dropped to the ground and he scuffed the concrete with his toe. For a long moment Renji thought he wasn't going to answer, then he looked up and said, "On the plane. I told you about it."

A frown creased Mizuiro's brow as Chizuru said, "Well, you didn't tell me, and I still want answers, so someone had better start talking, right now!"

Without taking his eyes off Keigo, Mizuiro said, "He's a demon. A death demon, except, Keigo, you said he walked through the wall. If he can do that, why hasn't he got out of the chair?"

"I don't know!" Keigo answered, hands flying from his pockets as he gesticulated wildly. "Maybe the tape's like garlic is for vampires or something."

"Or the taser stopped him from phasing somehow." Mizuiro's eyes narrowed as they focused on Renji, and his hand tugged something from pocket. The same electrical thing he'd used on Renji before which, no, no way was that happening again. The gigai had reacted badly enough the first time. Knowing Renji's luck, it'd explode or something if he got shocked again.

"Hang on a minute!" Renji said, trying to lean back further in the chair as Mizuiro advanced, the taser held out in front of him. There had to be something he could say, something he could do… "I've got friends!" And yeah, that really sounded tough.

"All the more reason to do away with you quickly," Mizuiro shot back, raising the taser. Behind him, Keigo looked torn between stopping him and cheering him on, which considering Renji had only being trying to save the kid's life back on the plane was really unfair. It'd worked too. When they'd been waiting for Arisawa-san's luggage- 

"Arisawa-sensei!" Renji yelped as the gun pressed against his jeans way too far up his thigh for comfort. "We were with him on the plane. Ask Keigo! He saw us picking up the old man's luggage."

Mizuiro froze, his gaze flicking up to Keigo, but it was Chizuru who answered. "You know Tatsuki's grandfather?"

"Yes! And Tatsuki as well." Though 'know' was pushing it more than a bit. Apart from that first night, Renji hadn't seen her before she left town.

"Tell us what happened at his apartment?" Mizuiro demanded, and Renji's heart sank, they were not going to like the answer to that.

"You don't wanna know," he said, gaze shooting to Chizuru and back.

"Tell us!" The taser pushed higher and now Renji was really starting to sweat. The electric shock had hurt enough before. If Mizuiro fired that thing now, Renji probably wasn't getting it up again for the rest of the century. 

"Fine! But don't fucking shock me if you don't like the answer, okay!" The pressure let off a little. Renji took a breath and said, "It was that Orihime." 

As he'd expected, Chizuru virtually exploded at him. "You bastard! You can't say things like that. She's dead!"

"Yeah, I know, I know." If he'd had his hands free, Renji would have been trying to calm her down. As it was, he just explained over the top of her. "The thing that killed her is called a hollow and it made her into one of them too."

"Hollow? Is that like a vampire?" Mizuiro asked as Keigo tried to calm Chizuru and got punched for his trouble. At least he managed to grab the lamp off her so it wasn't flicking around all over the place.

"Not really, it's…" Renji gave a frustrated huff. "It's a ghost that can't move on because it's lost a part of itself. It goes mad, I guess, and keeps on after the thing it's lost, destroying everything in its way. They're monsters. All appetite."

"But you called Orihime arrancar, not hollow," yet another voice said from the shadows, a voice Renji knew. 

Everyone turned towards it. Even Mizuiro gave up his assault on Renji's balls in favour of the newcomer. Much like Keigo had before, Tatsuki stepped into the light, her arms folded across her chest. She looked terrible, like she'd not slept in weeks. Her hair was flat, her eyes darkly ringed, and her skin looked pale against the dark blue of her sweater. But her mouth was hard and flat as she said, "Explain what that means and I might tell them to let you go."

"Oi!" Renji protested. "I saved your life! Or, actually you saved mine too, but damn it, woman, you know I'm not a bad guy! Tell them to unstick me now!"

Tatsuki's eyebrows climbed. "Not a bad guy? I thought you and your boyfriend killed the Kurosaki's?"

Now all the focus that had been on Tatsuki was back on Renji, and shit, he had no clue how to answer that. Except honestly. "Like I told your grandfather, we didn't do it for fun. It was an order from Central. Ichigo's high spiritual pressure was attracting hollows." He sighed and tugged on the tape round his arms, which was just as secure as it had been before. "It was probably his fault your friend Orihime and bird-boy- eh, Sado, I mean, got killed."

"Ichigo killed Orihime and Sado-kun?" Chizuru asked, now looking more confused than mad.

"No, him having high spiritual pressure did, whatever the hell that is," Keigo said.

"You get it from hanging around people like him," Tatsuki said, pointing at Renji. "Ichigo's dad was a shinigami too."

"Shinigami!" Keigo yelped. "Quick check his pockets for notebooks!"

Tatsuki rolled her eyes at him. "Not that sort of- Oh, forget it." She turned to Chizuru. "I'm sorry, Chizuru, but he's right about it being Orihime who attacked us at Granddad's apartment. That's why I've been out of town. I have high spiritual pressure too, and she can sense where I am."

Chizuru blinked at her, wide-eyed behind her glasses. "She was trying to kill you?" she said, sounding almost awed at the idea.

"No, she was…" Tatsuki frowned and looked over at Renji. "What was she trying to do to your boyfriend anyway? Granddad said she was trying to drain his spiritual pressure away when she healed him."

"These monsters can heal people?" Keigo said, and he looked even more confused than Chizuru.

Renji gazed around at all of them; at Tatsuki and Chizuru and their need to know about Orihime, Mizuiro with his thirst for the truth about what had happened to his friends, and Keigo, who Renji probably owed, big time, for making him piss his pants in the plane bathroom; and sighed heavily. "Look, I promise, anything you ask, I'll answer, but please, can you guys unstick me first, 'cause being taped to this chair is really uncomfortable."

*

They ended up back at Mizuiro's family apartment which, according to Keigo, was all Mizuiro and no family and had been that way for as long as he'd known the guy. Mizuiro had rolled his eyes at that but hadn't contradicted him. 

"Nice place," Renji said as they all slipped off their shoes in a large tiled genkan with a wide carpeted hallway leading off it. The comment earned him a poke to the lower back. He glared over his shoulder at Chizuru, who scowled and gave him another shove, hard enough to make him stagger up the step. His arms and legs weren't taped any longer, but the gigai still felt odd and tingly like the electricity had done something to it, and he wasn't a hundred percent steady on his feet.

"Keep moving," Chizuru said. "Along there." 

Obediently, Renji followed the others deeper into the apartment, which was much bigger than Arisawa-sensei's. Still not on the scale of the captain's quarters, but going by what Renji had picked up from the television, for a modern apartment, this was huge. On their way in, they passed two closed doors set far enough apart that they had to lead into separate rooms, and a living room packed with beautiful artwork and expensive looking polished furniture. And when Tatsuki vanished into a room on the left, Renji caught a glimpse of a large bathroom with a proper-sized soaking tub before she closed the door behind her.

"Drinks?" asked Mizuiro, stepping aside into a kitchen full of shiny silver gadgets and black tile. 

"Yeah, whatever," Chizuru replied, shoving Renji towards yet another door, which opened onto what felt like a entirely different world compared to the rest of the apartment.

Familiar tatami covered the floor instead of carpet, there were colourful posters of movies and musicians decorating the walls, and a desk with a computer buzzing happily on it stood against one wall, a bookcase beside it. And beneath the single curtained window was a folded-up futon. 

Sure it was just as neat and tidy but, unlike the rest of the apartment, this room looked like it was actually lived in.

Chizuru stopped in the middle of the room and, levelling a poisonous glare at Renji, pointed at the far corner by the bookcase. "Sit," she ordered. 

Renji resisted the urge to woof and went over and planted himself, his back to the wall, while Chizuru dragged out the futon and sat on that, her arms folded and eyes narrowed at Renji. 

"Green tea for me, thanks," Tatsuki called as she appeared in the doorway looking a bit damp round the edges after her stop-off in the bathroom. She grabbed a cushion off the futon and placed it so she was sitting with her back against the same wall as Renji, within touching distance even, though she kept from making eye contact with him. 

She still didn't trust him completely. Renji guessed he kind of understood. After all, as far as these guys were concerned, he was the self-confessed murderer of their friend, whatever the extenuating circumstances might have been.

"Green tea coming up," came Mizuiro's reply, followed by, "Keigo?"

"Coffee. Lots and lots of wonderful coffee," Keigo said from the hallway. He wandered in a moment later hugging a brightly coloured cushion. He paused by the door, gaze taking in Chizuru sitting opposite Renji, and Tatsuki beside him, then pointedly sat against the other wall, taking neither one side nor the other.

Undecided? Self-appointed mediator? Renji could only hope so. He could definitely see why Ichigo was friends with these guys. Their courage and fierce loyalty were just like Ichigo's own.

Renji jumped as Mizuiro suddenly called, "Heads up!" and a bright red can came flying in through the doorway. Keigo caught it one-handed and pulled the tab, murmuring an almost obscene, "Ah, come to daddy, you sweet caffeinated beverage, you. Together we will stay up all night," before taking a noisy slurp.

Chizuru cast him absolutely filthy look. "Quit trying to seduce the coffee, Asano, and get a grip," she groused, nodding her thanks as Mizuiro tossed her a can before disappearing back into the kitchen. A moment later he returned with two more drinks and gave one to Tatsuki before joining Chizuru on the futon. 

Tatsuki raised her eyebrows and glanced pointedly at Renji. When Mizuiro didn't even flinch, she rolled her eyes and shoved the can of tea in Renji's direction.

"S'ok," Renji said, pushing it back. "I had one just before he electrocuted me."

A hint of colour touched Mizuiro's cheeks as he ripped back the tab on his own drink, but all he said was, "Question time. I'll start. What are you and where do you come from?"

By the time he'd finished fielding the first round of questions, Renji reckoned he'd be a shoo-in for teacher if Seireitei ever set up a school for shinigami. They'd covered the basics; Soul Society, the Gotei 13, what made a soul a shinigami - including an introduction to reiatsu - and the basics of hollows. 

That had led to Tatsuki saying, "So what's an arrancar?"

"It's a hollow made up of lots of other hollows, which makes them stronger," Renji replied, then went on to explain about menos. He finished with, "Sometimes when adjuchas get really powerful, they tear off their hollow masks and that's when they become arrancar." 

Tatsuki glared him, obviously wanting more. Renji shrugged, not caring. He couldn't give her what he didn't have. "That's pretty much all I know. That they're rare, especially natural ones." He paused as an unpleasant thought occurred to him. "Though, I did hear rumours that they tried making a few on purpose a while back." 

"Why would anyone want to do that if they're so dangerous?" Keigo said.

Renji glanced over at him and shrugged again. "'Cause some folks haven't the sense not to mess with things they've no business messing with."

"Could someone have made Orihime into one?" Tatsuki demanded.

That deserved some serious thought because, honestly, Renji had no idea. If she'd only died four years ago, that seemed like a really short time to become an arrancar naturally given all the steps it took. On the other hand, Tatsuki said she'd been different from the get-go, so maybe it wasn't, for Orihime. How would he know, she wasn't his friend. Which meant maybe he wasn't the right person to be answering this question.

Raising his head, he looked Tatsuki in the eye and said, "You probably know better than me, since you were with her when she died."

Tatsuki flushed, her gaze leaving Renji's as she lowered her head and began turning the can around and around in her hands. For a long moment, no one spoke and then Mizuiro said quietly, "Tatsuki-san, you told the police that Inoue died in bed. Was that a lie?"

The can slowed for a second before speeding up again, and Tatsuki shook her head, a short sharp motion. Keeping her eyes fixed on her hands, she said, "No, she was in bed when she died. But only because I dragged her there."

"Tatsuki-chan?" Chizuru gasped, her voice full of betrayal.

Tatsuki lifted her head, and her eyes looked dead as she said, "I was staying at Orihime's overnight. We'd gone to bed and were sat reading, when something came through the wall at us. To start with, I couldn't see anything, just feel it, all cold and hard and angry. It came for Orihime. She pushed me out of the way and then collapsed. For a second I thought she was dead, but when I checked, she still had a pulse, she was still breathing. She just… It was like she wasn't inside her body anymore."

If it was a hollow that had taken her, she probably hadn't been. It would've knocked her out of her body as soon as it could to make her easier to devour. 

Renji scrubbed a palm over his head, wondering what would be the best thing to say. The movement seemed to attract Tatsuki's attention. For the briefest second, her gaze rose to meet Renji's, and it was desolate with pain. There was nothing he could say. Words, explanatory or comforting, could do nothing to help with this.

"That was when I realised there was another Orihime in the room, and that one was being attacked by a monster," Tatsuki continued, voice tight. "It was huge, like some kind of giant slug with a hole right through its chest and this white mask where its head should be. And it was yelling at her, saying that she'd betrayed it, forgotten it, left it behind or something, I don't know. Orihime kept trying to apologise. Even when the hollow grabbed her in its teeth and started shaking her, she didn't fight back. She just kept saying sorry, that it was all her fault."

Damn, what a way for your spiritual power to get a wake up call. It was amazing really that she was still sane. Renji tipped his head back against the wall, only too able to imagine what came next. Unfortunately, he wasn't wrong.

"I hit it with a chair, trying to get it to drop her, but it didn't even notice. It took her and went through me and out the window. Straightaway, Orihime's body started seizing." There was a thud as the unopened can of tea dropped from Tatsuki's suddenly shaking hands. She curled them into fists. "I tried to help her, turned her on her side, made sure she could breath, but nothing helped. Nothing I did made any difference." Knuckles turning white, she punched her thigh. "Why? Why didn't it make any difference? It never touched her body! She should have been fine!"

"Doesn't matter about her body. She was already dead," Renji said quietly. 

Tatsuki shot a look at him, "How can you say that! You can't know-"

"I can. I do," Renji said. "The part of her you saw being attacked was her soul. When the hollow shook her, it must have broken her soul chain -- that's the thing that keeps body and soul together. With that gone, her body had to die." More likely the hollow tore the girl apart once it got outside, but Renji wasn't about to tell Tatsuki that. Why upset her even more.

Eyes now full of desperate furious hope, Tatsuki demanded, "So even if I'd called the ambulance right then?"

"Wouldn't have made any difference," Renji assured her.

"But why didn't you tell anyone!" Chizuru wailed, and that was one Renji could answer. 

He didn't get a chance. It was Mizuiro who cut in, saying, "And say what? That Inoue had been killed by a monster?" His expression crumpled in sad understanding and he shook his head. "They'd have thought she was imagining things, or going mad."

"I did tell someone," Tatsuki said, voice softening like she might cry. "Afterwards, I tried to forget about it, pretend it never happened, but I kept seeing monsters all over the place, so eventually I told my grandfather, and he took me to see Ishida-sensei." She swallowed, her throat working around the words. "After I told him what happened to Inoue, they talked for a long time in Ishida-sensei's office and then they took me down into the basement of the hospital."

"To the safe room," Renji said. So that was how she'd known about it. He'd wondered, since Arisawa-sensei didn't seem the loose-lipped type.

Tatsuki nodded in agreement. "I thought they were going to lock me away for talking about monsters, but they showed me the door and the room and explained that if Orihime ever came back or if I saw any other monsters, I should run there, because the room would hide me."

"What's this?" Mizuiro asked.

"It's the place where Abarai and his boyfriend are staying," Tatsuki replied. Then she huffed and reached out to retrieve the dropped can of drink, visibly starting to pull herself back together. "It's under the hospital. Ishida-sensei's father built it. It hides spiritual pressure."

Mizuiro's bleak gaze shot to Renji. "So why are you living there?"

"Because we've got nowhere else to go?" Renji said.

"Because they're being hunted by the Gotei 13," Tatsuki added quickly. Damn it, was there nothing she didn't know?

"I thought you said you worked for them?" Mizuiro said, his whole posture shifting, and suddenly the sympathetic kid was gone, replaced by the predator from before. 

"That was before," Tatsuki said, getting her answer in before Renji could even open his mouth. "Then Abarai helped Ichigo rescue Ishida-kun, got accused of attempted murder and ended up being whipped in punishment and sentenced to jail." 

She looked at Renji, who gave her with his darkest, most evil scowl, because seriously, he took it all back. Either Arisawa-sensei couldn't keep his mouth shut at all, or Tatsuki had eavesdropping skills on a par with one of Yoruichi-sama's ninja. 

Seeing his expression, Tatsuki's eyes flashed, and she continued, "Oh no, I forgot. Then Kuchiki heroically rescued Abarai by killing all of Seireitei's government officials and then they ran away together-"

"Oi!" Renji put in, just as Chizuru snapped, "I don't care if they fucked outside this Seireitei place's parliament building." Everyone looked at her, and she dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "Well, I don't," she said and turned a begging gaze on Tatsuki. "Please, I just want to know what happened with Orihime."

That, more anything Renji might have said, shut Tatsuki down. Her expression closed in on itself again and Renji had to resist the urge to reach out to comfort her. But she'd have just shrugged him off. He knew because she gave out the same prickly vibe Ichigo did when he was hurting, and Renji didn't know Tatsuki even half well enough to try his man-handling techniques on her. 

"For a while, nothing," Tatsuki was saying with a single shoulder shrug. "I didn't see any other monsters either. I started to think it was all over, that maybe I'd imagined it all." Her eyes were fixed on the can in her hands and she made a sound that might have been a laugh when she first thought of it. "Then Ishida-sensei and Uryū-kun disappeared."

If they'd been the ones keeping her reiatsu in check like they'd been doing with Ichigo and his family, that could have had disastrous results.

Apparently oblivious to everyone watching her expectantly, Tatsuki went silent for a long moment. Then she suddenly ripped the tab off the can and took a long drink. When she lowered it again, Renji could see her eyes were wet. Still, there wasn't a quaver in her voice when she said, "About a week later, I saw Orihime on the roof of Ichigo's house." 

A bone deep shudder ran through Tatsuki's body as she continued, "Only it wasn't her. Not her her. It was the same monster who'd killed her, but with Orihime's hair and it spoke with her voice." 

An adjuchas. Going by that description, it couldn't have been anything but. The hollow that had killed Orihime must have been most of the way there already and the girl's high reiryoku levels had tipped it over the edge. 

"S-she spoke to you?" Chizuru had her hands clasped in front of her. "What did she say?" The guys looked equally fascinated by the turn of events.

Tatsuki glanced up and her lips carried the same pallor as the rest of her. "Oh, just the usual. Asked about school and family. How I was, you know. Stuff."

"She never went for you?" Renji asked. Not that an adjuchas necessarily would, from what he'd been told. They tended to be cleverer than that, though not on an arrancar's level. 

"Never," Tatsuki replied with a brisk shake of her head, gaze dropping to her can of drink again. "She was nice, kind. She even fixed my arm for me." There was a pause, and it felt like a pall fell over Tatsuki as she added more quietly, "But she said things, later, that made me think maybe she wanted to."

Renji could imagine. He remembered the conversation between the two of them back when Orihime had attacked Arisawa-sensei's apartment. There'd been one hell of an undercurrent back then, and given Tatsuki's reactions, he'd lay money that'd been going on for a while. 

Chizuru opened her mouth to say something, but Renji cut in first. "Look," he said, "You've got to remember that wasn't your friend. Even if it looked a bit like her and spoke a bit like her, it was the same hollow that killed her."

"What about now?" Tatsuki said. "She's changed. She looks like herself again-"

Renji shook his head, speaking over her. "Still a hollow, honestly. You should've seen her when she hit our plane. She was in full on arrancar mode, and hardly looked human at all." Then he realised what Tatsuki had said. He sat forwards. "Hang on, you say she'd changed again? You mean that was the first time you'd seen her looking like that?"

"No, she's been like that for, I dunno, about six months, I guess?" Tatsuki shifted uneasily. "Why? Does it matter?"

It might do. It might do a lot.

"When, exactly, was the last time you saw her in her old form," Renji asked, nerves starting to make his stomach hurt.

Tatsuki stared at him and frowned. "The night before you guys came and killed the Kurosakis. She was on his roof like she always was. When she wasn't on his wall, or the street, or following him to school."

Protecting him. Which explained why no hollows had come for the family even after the Ishidas had been taken. But, if that was true, why hadn't she defended Ichigo when the shinigami had come.

There was only one reason. She must have been gone. And since it didn't sound she'd have left voluntarily, someone must have made her go, or taken her. 

The 2nd been in charge of setting up Isshin's arrest that night. They'd had access, opportunity, and at least one member of that division had motive to grab an interesting looking hollow. Urahara. 

Renji felt sick. If Orihime had been taken by that creep, if she still belonged to him, then he knew everything she did. He knew that Byakuya and Renji were in Karakura, that they were involved with Tatsuki and her grandfather. He might even know about the hospital, the room.

Shoving against the wall, Renji shot to his feet. He had to get back, warn Byakuya! They had to run, now.

Around him, the kids all scrambled up and away. Renji held out his hands, trying to be placating. "I'm not gonna do anything. I just…" How could he explain? "I need to get back. Now."

Mizuiro, brandishing the taser like he wasn't afraid to use it, said, "You agreed to answer all our questions." 

"Another time. I just- I gotta get back. If that creep knows where we are-" Panic began to thicken in his throat.

"Creep?" Keigo said at the same time as Chizuru said, "Who cares! You promised!"

If they wouldn't let him go like this, they'd have no choice if he dumped the gigai. He could be back at the hospital in seconds. His reiatsu had increased enough for short bursts of shunpo. 

Renji reached for the Quincy glove, only to find his back pocket empty.

"Looking for this?" Mizuiro asked, and sure enough, the white glove dangled from his hand.

Renji lunged for it, only to be met by the business end of the taser, already sparking blue. He flinched away from the thing, worried what another dose might do to the gigai, and snarled, "Give me the damned glove."

Keigo was making worried squeaking noises from the other side of the room, but Mizuiro held his ground, jaw set. "Not until I know what it does and you've answered the rest of our questions."

"I don't have time!" roared Renji, his mind churning through images of the 2nd tearing the hospital apart and finding Byakuya. Dragging him back to Seireitei. He'd be executed by sōkyoku, for sure, with all those murders, and Renji couldn't let that happen, couldn't let him be taken. Not while there was breath in his body to prevent it!

"It's been a couple of months since the fight. If someone knew where you were, wouldn't they have come for you before this?" 

"What?"

"The guys you're so scared of. Wouldn't they already have come if they were going to?"

Tatsuki's dry observation poured over Renji's fraught nerves like oil on troubled waters. The frantic feeling faded back to manageable proportions, because she was right. He and Byakuya had been living in that room for weeks now, and this wasn't the only time Renji had been out alone. There was no reason to think Urahara knew where they were, and if they kept a low profile, he wouldn't be able to find out.

A low profile, which included not shunpo'ing across half a city at the first sign of trouble.

Renji puffed out a breath and stood down, taking half a step back and sinking onto the floor. Shit. That'd been close. He really did need to learn to use his head.

Still, he was pretty sure he was right about who'd taken Orihime.

He was about to warn Tatsuki that she might have more than an arrancar to worry about, when Chizuru, who was sat near the door, her knees tucked up under her chin, said quietly, "Do you think she'd talk to me if I found her?"

"Ah…," Renji said, shocked by the idea that Chizuru might still actually want to talk to Orihime after what had been said. His gaze met Tatsuki's and she frowned at him darkly. Which was supposed to mean what exactly? Renji hadn't a clue, but he knew one thing for sure. "I think she's more likely to kill you, being as how she's a hollow. And if I'm right, the guy she answers to is a first class creep. You really don't wanna end up in his hands, alive or dead."

"Is he in the Gotei too?" Mizuiro demanded. Rather than sit back down, he taken a spot leaning against the far wall, the taser still clutched in one hand. 

Renji sighed and scrubbed at his forehead with his fingertips. He had ground to make up here after that outburst. But before he could say anything, Chizuru suddenly let out an odd sobbing sound, slammed her hand across her mouth and scrambled from the room.

For a second everyone stared, and then Keigo moved to go after her.

"I'll go," Tatsuki said, pushing off the wall before he got far. "She'll want to know more about Orihime anyway and I guess I do owe her some answers." 

Without looking back, she left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Renji kept his gaze on the doorway as he went in for the kill on the two left behind. "You wanna know what we're up against? I'll tell you. His name's Urahara Kisuke. He's captain of the 2nd division of the Gotei 13, and he gets his kicks out of stealing kids and maiming them."

As he finished talking, Renji turned towards Mizuiro, who met his gaze silently and unflinchingly. Keigo, on the other hand, let out a nervous laugh. "Ha ha! It sounds like the plot of a cheesy horror movie." He made a whoo-whoo noise. "Kiddies, don't talk to strangers or the monster'll get-"

His comment clipped off short when both Renji and Mizuiro turned to look at him.

"Crap," he said, paling. "You're not joking." He swallowed hard. "I thought you were joking."

"Wish I was," Renji said with a shrug. It'd save him the nightmares. Not that he had them often, the ones about Urahara anyway. Kurotsuchi was more likely to take a starring role, these days. "And Urahara ain't the only one. There's a guy called Kurotsuchi, the captain of the 12th division. He's the one who took Ishida-sensei and his son." Renji paused, unsure how much to share about that. Making these humans scared of shinigami in general but still willing to help him and Byakuya was a fine line to walk.

"Tatsuki said you helped rescue Uryū," Mizuiro said. "Is that true?"

Renji nodded. "Ichigo asked me to." And they'd only managed it thanks to help from Urahara. Best not to mention that bit, probably.

"Was it from this Kurotsuchi guy?"

"From the 12th, yeah." Memories, of waking up in a lab that stank of blood and death, strapped to a trolley surrounded by machines that oozed and beeped all around him, threatened to swallow Renji whole. He clamped his hands into fists until he could feel nails cutting into the skin on his palms. "The kid was in bad shape, but we got him out."

"What about Ishida-sensei?"

"He was…" safe, thanks to Urahara? No, he couldn't say that. "He was okay too." 

"So, they're alive?" Keigo asked quietly.

Renji glanced over at him. "Not like you guys are, but they're fine. They're just dead, like me."

"None of this is ever going to stop sounding crazy," Mizuiro muttered under his breath, and that was one thing at least that Renji could fix.

"The glove," he said, with a gesture to the cloth now peeking out of Mizuiro's jacket pocket. "You wanted to know what it does. Stick it on and put your hand on my chest, like this." Renji demonstrated with his own, the palm flat over his sternum.

Mizuiro's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because that's how I get out of this fake body." It was a risk losing the reiatsu-suppressing gigai away from the protection of the safe-room, even for a few moments, but it was worth taking if it'd get Ichigo's friends on-side. 

Mizuiro didn't look convinced. "Keigo said you can walk through walls. What's to stop you doing a vanishing act if I let you out of that thing?"

"The fact that I ain't got nowhere to run to." That admission hurt. He might not have had the privilege of birth back in Seireitei but he'd had rank. Now Renji was reliant on the whims of a couple of human children. "You heard what Tatsuki said; we're being hunted."

With a brief glance at Keigo, Mizuiro tugged the glove from his pocket and slipped it on. Then he trod across the room and, keeping eye contact with Renji, leaned down and pressed it to Renji's chest.

The pulse of reiatsu it released was almost painful, but Renji felt it loosen his bond with the gigai and tried to pull himself free. His arms, legs and head all slid out fine, but for some reason, his body wouldn't follow. The gigai clung to his lower torso, specifically his hip where Mizuiro had used the taser on him, which just so happened to be right over Zabimaru.

"Shit," Renji cursed, scrambling to his feet and shoving at the kishi body, trying to peel it off. It felt like it was yanking on something inside him, something deeper than skin or muscle or even bone. _You okay, buddy?_

Zabimaru's reply sounded more like a loud rumbling snore than a complaint, so Renji decided to take it as a good sign and kept struggling, managing to fight his shoulders free.

After a moment or two, Keigo's voice said from behind him, "That is so weird." 

Renji paused and glanced up, to find both humans watching him with a kind of sick fascination. Was it that strange? Renji looked down at himself, at the lifeless head lolling from his chest, the spare arms flopping around and the extra legs dragging on the floor. And, yeah, that probably was a bit weird.

"It's stuck," he said by way of explanation. "That electric thing damaged it."

Mizuiro gave the taser in his hand a slightly guilty look and put it away. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Renji shrugged. "Try the glove again, I guess?" Maybe it was like getting ice out of a pot in the middle of winter. Sometimes you needed to give it an extra tap.

Mizuiro leaned forward, for a moment not seeming to know where to touch Renji again. Renji pointed at the gigai's chest, the jolt of reiatsu came again, and this time the gigai came free with an odd tearing sensation. Renji immediately dropped the fake body on the floor and drew Zabimaru, vaguely registering the two human boys backing rapidly away from him. He ignored them in favour of checking his zanpakutō for damage.

Both sword and scabbard were fine, the blade as straight and sharp as it always was. But when Renji flipped it around to check the hilt, he frowned. The tsuba, which had been plain bronze when he put on the gigai, was now decorated with familiar jagged lines. 

"Well, I'll be…" he murmured, tracing the lines with his finger. After his session earlier, he'd expected to have to fight for weeks to get this far, or sit for even longer hours of jinzen, but maybe all it had needed was a human wielding a taser.

So, what else had changed, along with the tsuba?

He took a breath and focused inward, to the place where his access to Zabimaru and their inner world had been blocked. The seal was still there, but it felt different. Weaker? Maybe. Brittle. Porous even. 

"Is something wrong?"

Renji tore his attention away from Zabimaru, blinking as he refocused on the real world, and Keigo and Mizuiro who were both looking at him with concern. "Wrong?" he said, not making any attempt to control the wolfish grin that curled his lips. "Nope. I feel great." More powerful, like his reiryoku was leaking through the seal at a faster rate. 

Like, maybe, if he called Zabimaru out, shikai would actually answer.

Ah, it was so tempting to try, but that really would be dumb. Reiatsu of his current level wouldn't be much more than a blip if anyone was looking. Shikai would amp it up to a bonfire. But when he got back, when he had the protection of those Quincy walls between him and any hunters, then -

Zabimaru roared, long, loud and joyous, and it was all Renji could do not to join them.

*

It was well past midnight before Renji finally got back to the hospital. Forewarned by a quick phone call, a very tired looking Arisawa-sensei met him at a side door so as to avoid the security guards. 

"Was your errand successful?" the old man asked as Renji slipped past him, eager to get back to the protection of the safe-room. 

Renji forced himself to slow down just inside the corridor. Arisawa had been good enough to Byakuya-sit, so the least Renji could do was be polite and walk with him. 

"Maybe," he said. "I'll let you know when I have something concrete." 

"That would be appreciated," Arisawa replied, as they entered the elevator.

Silence fell between them, allowing Renji to think back over the last few hours. He'd stayed and answered all Mizuiro's questions - and with a brain as sharp as that one, the kid definitely had a great career ahead of him when he made it to Seireitei - then afterwards had laid out his and Byakuya's problems; the need for documents and a place to live, jobs, money, and how Ichigo had said that they were the people to come and see. 

Chizuru and Tatsuki were back in the room at that point and, after a brief con-flab, the gang's answer had been to send Renji away, saying they needed longer to think about it. Which was fair, Renji guessed. They'd had a lot of information dumped on them in a very short amount of time, and still no real reason to trust him.

It was disappointing though, knowing nothing had really changed.

By the time they reached the little anteroom, Arisawa was smothering almost continuous yawns. He obviously wanted the evening to be over as much as Renji did, but first; "How's Byakuya?" Renji asked.

Arisawa's expression twisted. "Confused. Whatever happened between the two of you, he doesn't seem to remember." 

Like last time. Damn. It was almost enough to make Renji feel bad for him. Almost.

"He was sitting up by the window when I left," Arisawa continued, keying open the small door. "Still safely in his gigai."

Now there was a point. Renji pulled the Quincy glove from his pocket and offered it to Arisawa. "Can you hang on to this, ojiisan? I was hoping to find somewhere to hide it, but things didn't work out."

The old man looked at the glove blankly for a second before his face cleared and he said, "Ah yes. Not something you'd want your young man getting his hands on right now, I suppose." He took it with a grimace. "Though I can't say I feel happy taking it too far away from here. What if you need it in a hurry?" 

Renji shrugged, jamming his empty hand back into the hip pocket of his jeans. "Guess that's just a risk I gotta take." And it meant he wouldn't be able to try and release his shikai tonight, or any time soon, damn it. He was trapped inside a gigai now as well as trapped inside the room.

Arisawa still looked unhappy about it, but he tucked the glove away inside his jacket anyway. "In that case, I'll be off home," he said and gestured to the open hatch. "In you go. I'll shut it properly behind you and reorganise the boxes."

A sudden thought occurred to Renji. "Do you have to?" he asked impetuously. "Shut it, I mean. If we're both in gigai, then we should be okay, right? No reiatsu to leak out or anything."

Eyes widening slightly, Arisawa's sharp gaze moved from Renji to the door and then over to the boxes they used to conceal it. "You're right," he said, "So long as we make sure the entrance is covered."

"Stack the boxes away from the wall a bit and we can always squeeze past them," Renji suggested, making a move to start shifting.

Setting things up took only a few minutes, but when they were done, the entrance was both concealed from curious eyes and accessible. Renji stood back with a satisfied huff. It wasn't perfect, since they were in the middle of a hospital and so couldn't exactly walk in and out whenever they wanted, but even having this small amount of independence would make a huge difference.

"Thanks," he said, meaning it with all his heart.

Arisawa's face crinkled up into a smile. "Starting to get a little cabin fever were we?"

"You have no idea," Renji replied with a shudder.

"I think I do," the old man said, then patted Renji on the arm. "Now, I really must go home. My bed is promising me sweet dreams and I'll deny it no longer."

"Mine too," Renji grinned, "and thanks again." With a nod goodbye, he ducked inside the safe-room and tugged the door almost closed behind him. 

He half-expected Byakuya to be waiting on the other side, demanding explanations, but he wasn't. 

Sitting over by the windows, Arisawa had said. 

Renji cast a look in that direction, squinting past silvery blue pools of light into deep angular shadows that turned the great dojo into a surreal futuristic landscape during the nighttime hours. All seemed equally empty.

After what had happened that afternoon, Renji was almost tempted to go and hunt Byakuya down and demand an apology or something. But what was the point? If Byakuya didn't remember what he did, then any apology Renji won would be meaningless. Better to avoid a repeat than throw around accusations.

Rubbing his right eye with the heel of his hand, Renji wandered across the dojo towards their small living room, trying not to feel too bummed out about not being able to try shikai. 

Maybe once they moved and got their own place, then he could come back here sometimes and practice when Byakuya wasn't around. That sounded good. He was fed up with this feeling of not being safe in his own home. 

"You're back." 

Renji's heart leapt to his throat. He spun, already lashing out at the sound of Byakuya's voice, and had a split second to think, 'shit, gigai!' before the blow connected and Byakuya was staggering backwards, his expression shocked, the back of his hand pressed to his mouth.

"Crap!" Renji yelped, reaching out for Byakuya, only to see him flinch away from the contact, eyes fearful behind the loose hair that fell over his face. That, and the baggy green sweater he was wearing, made him look different, hardly like Byakuya at all, and definitely not like Renji's powerful captain and lord. And when he moved his hand, Renji caught a glimpse of blood on his teeth. 

For a moment, he just looked like some guy who'd been punched in the face by a thug. 

Renji hesitated, worry giving way to guilt followed hotly by anger. He was the hurt party here, so how come Byakuya was the one looking like the victim? Then even that emotion fled, leaving Renji hollowed out by exhaustion, his heart so heavy he could cry. This was all his fault. If Byakuya had just left him to rot in jail, they wouldn't be stuck together in this living hell of humans and gigai and powerlessness.

"Renji?" Byakuya's voice came what felt like eons later.

Renji blinked his eyes open and realised he'd almost fallen asleep on his feet. Damn, he must be tireder than he thought. 

"Are you all right?" Byakuya asked. He was standing about three feet away, his expression concerned as he peered into Renji's face. 

Renji nodded, shifting to stretch and wincing as he did so. He ached from head to toe, the aftereffects of the electric shock on the gigai, he guessed, and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget today had ever happened.

The loud rumble from his stomach told him that wasn't going to fly, so instead he said, "I need to eat," and set off towards the room again.

Despite not being explicitly invited, Byakuya followed, his steps silent on the dojo floor, and with the reiatsu-suppressing gigai on, there was no way to sense him either. It was almost like being sealed all over again, except unlike before, Renji still had Zabimaru's comforting presence deep inside his soul. At the thought, Renji felt the nue stretch and turn in its sleep.

It was alright for some, he thought with more than a bit of affection.

Reaching the door, Renji kicked his shoes off, went inside and headed immediately for the counter where the kettle and little microwave oven stood. Unhooking the kettle, he thrust it at Byakuya with instructions to, "Fill it," and then yanked the cupboard door open before dropping to sit cross-legged in front of it. 

Inside was a shelf of the same packs of noodles Renji had turned his nose up at earlier. Now they looked like food from the gods. He picked out two miso flavoured for him, and two curry for Byakuya, then lurched to his feet on the hunt for a pot to cook them in. By the time he found one, Byakuya was back with the filled kettle. 

Five minutes later they were sitting down, one each side of the little table, to eat, and still neither of them had spoken. Undeterred, Renji dug in straight away, to the loud approval of his stomach, watching surreptitiously as Byakuya poked and prodded at his own heaped plate.

After a moment or two, Byakuya put his chopsticks down, folded his hands in front of him and said quietly, "Arisawa-san informed me of what happened. Please accept my most humble apology for any injury I may have caused you."

Wow, that was an actual genuine apology, a first to Renji's knowledge. 

Closing his mouth, which had dropped open in surprise, it was on the tip of Renji's tongue to brush the incident off as nothing, since Byakuya didn't remember what he'd done anyway. But then he remembered, and not just the helplessness and the feeling of being used, since honestly they weren't exactly new. It was the rest that worried him, that had made him knock Byakuya out cold and trap him in a gigai, that had made him hit out at the sound of Byakuya's voice.

Putting down his own chopsticks, Renji propped his elbows on the table and said, "How much do you remember about what happened?"

A frown skated across Byakuya's face. "I recall Ichigo leaving and then later, out in the dojo, did we exchange words?"

That was one way of putting it. Renji wasn't sure if he was pleased or disappointed that Byakuya hadn't completely forgotten their fight. Renji had said some pretty hurtful things, after all. "Yeah, we had a bit of an argument and then ended up in bed together. You tried to… " he paused, running out of words or explanation or something. "You were inside me-" he held up a hand, as Byakuya's mouth opened. "Not like that. I know you were… " It was no good. He hadn't a clue how to even start explaining. "It felt like you were after Zabimaru," he finished finally.

"I was trying to reach the asauchi?" Byakuya said, his gaze shifting to the cupboard, because of course, if he didn't remember what happened, he wouldn't know that it was safely inside Renji's gigai with him.

"No," Renji replied irritably. He clasped both hands over his head, elbows still on the table, and growled a little in frustration. "It was like you were inside me, with your reiatsu, trying hook onto him or-"

"Hook?" Byakuya said, the small amount of colour in his face draining away. "I was trying to pull him out of you?"

"Erm…" Renji said, not sure what to make of that. "I dunno. Is that even possible? I mean, Zabimaru's a part of me, so…" But he'd lost Byakuya, who'd dropped his chin, all expression gone. 

Renji continued anyway. "And you did the reiatsu chains thing again, so I reckon gigai from now on, just to be safe, okay?" And why was he the one sounding unsure. Damn it all, Byakuya was the one who kept slipping out of control, and Renji was the one who ended up suffering for it.

Still no reaction. Renji waited for another couple of minutes and then gave up. Apparently they were back to ignoring each other, which was one step up from assault, Renji guessed. Right now, so long as Byakuya stayed in the gigai, whether he spoke to Renji or not was irrelevant.


	5. A Pocket Full of Chatz

It was still dark when Yuzu began to wake. Tugging a pillow down over her head, she snuggled deeper into the quilts, chasing those last moments of warmth and sleep as she listened to the sound of the household getting ready for breakfast. Honestly, she should be getting up herself, but a part of her, the part that had spent an inappropriate amount of time during her last training session with Tsukishima-sensei complaining, really didn't want to. What was the point? It wasn't like there'd be anything for her to do if she did get up. Not real work anyway, like she used to have back at the 4th. No one at the 6th, except Takata-sensei, would give her orders, or even directions. They just bowed and scraped and called her Shiba-sama. 

Yuzu shuddered and pressed the pillow against her face, the silk feeling damp from the heat of her breath as she inhaled the scent of sandalwood. It made her think of her room back there at the 4th, tiny and so much simpler than the luxury of the Shiba house, but she'd been happy, mostly, knowing that she was needed and was doing something useful with her life. The only things missing had been Karin and Ichigo. And Dad, of course, but her thoughts shied away from thinking about him at all. It was too painful, and like Tsukishima-sensei said, there was little point in dwelling on things you couldn't change.

With a sigh, she pushed back the covers and slid her feet to the floor, curling her toes beneath the edge of her padded yukata until she found her tabi and slipped them on gratefully. According to everyone she spoke to, this weather was pretty mild, but that didn't seem to stop her feeling the cold. 

"Your tea's ready, Yuzu-sama," Take called through the door. Her figure was back-lit by lamps in the other room. "Do you need help?"

They'd tried to give her a lady's maid when she first moved in. Yuzu had put a stop to that right away, arguing that she wasn't some pampered noble woman, she worked for a living.

That was before her true identity had been revealed and everyone had started bowing and scraping.

"No, thank you," she called back, grabbing the lightest of the quilts off the bed and, draping it around her shoulders. As she stood, Bostov, her toy lion, tumbled to the floor and she placed him carefully back on the bed, being sure to tuck him in, before heading for the door. The tenuous warmth of the tatami beneath her feet vanished when she hit the floorboards, and she shivered as she slid the panel aside. 

Take greeted her with an amused glance at her dress and a polite bow. Yuzu clutched the quilt tighter and scurried towards the kotatsu where tea had been laid out, taking her seat at it with a relieved sigh. The heat from the fire sank into her bones, warming her through more thoroughly than the bed. Combined with hot tea and some breakfast, she'd be able to get herself moving soon.

It was the lack of reiryoku, according to Take. She'd said before that there were people out in Rukongai who froze to death in the winters because they couldn't stay warm. Yuzu could easily believe that. It was bad enough when you were inside and had warm clothing.

The tea was hot and fragrant. Yuzu poured for herself and held the bowl in cupped hands, her mind drifting back to Karakura Town and home, to mornings when it had been her making the breakfast for everyone else. If she closed her eyes, she could almost wish herself back there.Yelling for nii-chan to get his lazy self out of bed, then chivying him into eating before he disappeared off to school. Ignoring Karin's daily sulks, and fending off all of Dad's attempts to steal food before it was ready. 

She missed it all horribly. Dad, of course. But Karin and nii-chan too. They were so busy these days. Half the time, she didn't see them from one day to the next. And she missed having a kitchen of her own, and tasks that were her responsibility alone.

A voice came from up the corridor. "It was a mistake. It looked like a great offer but now she says she's gonna tell Shiba-sama."

Yuzu's eyes shot open and she glanced at the door. That had been Shin.

"So what d'you want me to do about it?" It was Take who answered him. 

"I don't know. Flash your zanpakutō at her or something. Since you've still got one." The end of that came out as a sullen grumble. 

Take huffed. "I'm not threatening one of Shiba-taichō's staff just because you screwed up a food order, Shin. You're steward, you figure it out."

"It ain't that easy." They were right outside now. "Wish he'd never given me this damned job. I'm doing me best, but as far as that lot are concerned, I'm just some jumped up gaki from outside the walls." Bitterness blazed in every word.

Take's answering sigh sounded like it came from her boots and Yuzu saw the door slide back a scrap. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. But you've gotta get this sorted, Shin. I can't keep clearing up your messes for you, you hear me?" 

"Thanks, Take-san! You're a proper hero."

Take was still shaking her head as she came through the door. "Did you catch any of that?" she asked, kicking it closed behind her.

"What's he done this time?" Yuzu asked, tidying up the top of the kotatsu to make room for the tray Take was carrying.

Take chuckled wryly as she set out rice and pickles, fish and a covered bowl of soup. "Got his numbers wrong, if you can believe it. Ordered forty baskets of shrimp instead of four. The whole lot's gonna rot before we can eat 'em all."

That was probably an exaggeration. A lot of them could be preserved, though forty baskets was going to be a challenge with the limited amount of space they had. It wasn't like there were freezers in Seireitei.

But there were hungry mouths over at the 6th. And that huge kitchen. Of course it wasn't hers, but maybe for once she could take advantage of being the captain's sister and get to use it, if only for a while. She could make curry, for when nii-chan got back from his trip. He'd like that, she was sure.

Pressing her hands together in a quick word of thanks over her breakfast, Yuzu started making plans.

*

"This is Tashika Arata. He's in charge of the kitchens."

Yuzu looked at the man in the green yukata grovelling on the stone-flagged floor and bit her lip. This really wasn't how she'd planned for this to go. All she'd asked Take to do was introduce her to the head cook, but as soon as she walked into the bustling kitchen, all the workers had dropped to their knees. Still, she had to say something. 

"Erm, I just wanted to maybe borrow your kitchen for a while," she began. That garnered absolutely no response from Tashika, so Yuzu gestured to the file of shinigami, each toting several baskets, some of which smelt distinctly fishy. "We brought our own ingredients."

For a long moment no one moved, and then Tashika lifted his head just enough to peer up at Take, who gave a brisk nod. With that permission granted, Tashika's gaze shifted in Yuzu's general direction, though he was careful not to make eye contact. His tongue flicked out briefly and he said, "I and my people are at your disposal, Shiba Yuzu-sama. Please do as you wish with our inadequate facilities."

That was maybe a bit better, Yuzu guessed. At least he was speaking now. Sort of. Maybe if she talked to him about food in general, that would help him relax a bit more.

"I was going to make curry," she tried, and when that didn't make an impression, added, "What do you normally do for lunch? It can't be easy keeping a whole division fed. There's so many people."

Was she babbling? A little, but what else was she supposed to do while the head cook was still on his knees in front of her. Why didn't he get up? "I know some great recipes, maybe we can share-?"

"Yuzu-sama," Take interjected with a touch on her arm. Yuzu stopped talking to look at her. "I reckon if you just start cooking, that'll be for the best."

Understanding glistened in Take's eyes. Yuzu glanced down at Tashika and his workers one last time and gave up. "Okay," she said and made room as Take organised delivery of the baskets of shrimp and vegetables and spices. 

The kitchen was much more basic than Yuzu was used to, but there was plenty of space. The main thing that struck her about it though was the warmth. For the first time in days, she wasn't cold. Probably due to the huge horseshoe-shaped clay oven over in separate section of the kitchen. Built there for safety, Yuzu assumed, since the only wood in that part of the room was for fuel whereas the rest of the kitchen was all wooden cupboards and shelves. The vast oven had to have at least seven cooking holes in the top, maybe more, with stoke holes to match underneath, and the heat coming off it was incredible even at this distance. The workers tending the great iron pots, were all sweating heavily and the thought occurred to Yuzu that, if she could work in this place, even for one day a week, then maybe the winter's cold wouldn't be so unbearable.

After trying a time or two to give orders to the kitchen staff and getting nowhere, Yuzu started using Take as a go-between. That finally seemed to shake some sense into them, and the kitchen began functioning again, if much more quietly than before. Leaving the preparation of the vegetables and shrimp to Take, Yuzu turned her attention to the sauce. There were no curry mixes in Seireitei, of course, so she was going to have to make her own. Luckily she'd brought spices with her, since the kitchen was lacking a lot of what she needed.

She was working on scaling up the amounts when she caught a flash of green out the corner of her eye and realised Tashika was kneeling not far away, watching her avidly. "Do you think the division would prefer the curry sweet or spicy," she asked after a few moments. "Nii-chan prefers his spicy, but maybe not all shinigami like that."

"Whatever you make will be fine, Yuzu-sama," Tashika replied, bowing over his knees, though he kept on watching her like she might grind her own fingers off at any moment. Yuzu bit back a sting of irritation. Was it such a surprise that a noble woman could actually cook?

Finally, after he'd been kneeling there silently for a few minutes, she got fed up enough to put the pestle and mortar down on the low wooden table and sit back back on her heels. "Was there something specific you wanted?"

His gaze was everywhere but on her. Fingers twisting in his hakama, he seemed about to collapse again. Still, he managed to blurt, "The carrots, Yuzu-sama. Where did you get the carrots?"

It was so far removed from what she'd been expecting him to say that it took a moment to work out how to answer. "The carrots?"

"Yes, my lady." He faltered, looking ready to drop the subject before plunging on, "I've not had carrots delivered for months. Could you tell me where you get them from?"

Yuzu blinked at him. No, the question was still the same. "I'm not sure, to be honest, but I can ask Rami. I don't think it's a secret."

"Thank you, thank you, Yuzu-sama, you are very kind." Tashika bowed again and this time started to back away.

"Hang on," Yuzu said, before he could go far. "Where do you get your…" She was going to say vegetables, but really, having seen the gaps on the shelves, the problem went deeper than that. She tried, "Where do you get your supplies?" instead. 

That, at least, Tashika seemed happy to answer. "From the estate, my lady," he told her with a confident little nod. 

"The Shiba?" Yuzu queried.

Tashika's lips twisted into a semblance of amusement. "No, the Kuchiki estate. The 6th gets all its foodstuffs from the Kuchiki storehouses. Always has. It's traditional."

That probably made sense while Byakuya-sama had been captain. Now though it just seemed strange. Then again, maybe such a long-standing relationship meant they got things cheap. Yuzu suggested as much to Tashika.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know, my lady. I just cook what I'm given. It's not for me to get involved in division business like that."

Strictly speaking, it wasn't hers either, but Tsukishima-sensei had suggested she take any opportunity to get more involved with the running of the division, so maybe she should take an interest. It wasn't like she had much else to do.

*

Hisana's office door was open when Yuzu arrived. Still, she knocked and waited politely for the lieutenant to look up from her work, which she did a couple of seconds later, immediately springing to her feet when she saw who it was. "Yuzu-sama, come in. Is there some kind of problem?"

Yuzu stepped across the threshold and drew the door closed behind her. "I'm not sure, to be honest," she replied. She'd given this a lot of thought on the way over from the kitchens and decided that the best way to handle it was with complete honesty. "A mix up in a food order meant we had too much shrimp at the house, so I offered to cook curry for everyone over here, but - Hisana-san, if you don't mind me asking, is the division still getting all their food from the Kuchiki?"

Gesturing to the chair in front of the desk, Hisana pursed her lips. "It's not changed recently, so yes, we probably are. Hang on a minute." She dug around on her desk, coming up a moment later with a book whose pages were covered in tiny cramped handwriting. "That's right. The dealer's called Fugawa Tatsuya. He's related to the Kuchiki by marriage."

So Tashika had been right. Yuzu sat down. "You only use the one source?"

Hisana glanced over at her, brow still crinkled. "He's always supplied what we need. Why would we go anywhere else?"

The lack of guile in Hisana's lavender eyes said that it was a genuine question. Yuzu tried to put herself in Hisana's place. As she understood it, the children in the camps were fed and clothed from a central supply, just like the soldiers in the Gotei were. Would Hisana even really be aware of shopping around for the best deal, especially as it pertained to food?

"Back home…" She hesitated for a second, before remembering that, yes, Hisana was one of the people who knew about their family's roots, "in the living world, after my mom died, I took over the cooking. That meant buying all the ingredients too, so I did a lot of shopping, and buying everything from one place really isn't a good idea. You need to shop around, especially if you need a lot of food. Different places will have different prices, some cheaper than others and-"

"Yuzu." Hisana had her hand raised and she'd dropped the -sama. Whatever she was about to say, she really meant it. "You might be right, but you're talking about something that'd take up a huge amount of time. So, thank you for your suggestion, I'll bear it in mind, but I need to get back to work now."

That wasn't good enough. Yuzu set her chin. "You're cheating the division," she said. "I bet you're spending way more money on food than you have to, money that could be put towards medics or training-"

"I said I don't have the time," Hisana reiterated dangerously.

"I do!" Yuzu argued. "I have hours everyday and I spend most of it standing watching other people, because no one will let me do anything else. I'm either not trained, or I haven't got enough reiatsu, or it's something a noble shouldn't be touching." Hisana had gone back to her work. She was losing her, Yuzu realised. "Hisana, please! This I can do! I know how to! I don't need to be taught." Still nothing. She had maybe one more chance to sell this. "I promise I can save you at least a thousand kan every month."

That got Hisana's attention. Her head snapped up. "That much? Really?"

"At least. I'm sure," Yuzu replied. And if she couldn't then she'd give it to Hisana from her own pocket. Anything so she could actually have some useful task to fill her days. "But if I'm going to, I'll need access to the division's accounts."

*

Mid-morning found Ichigo, Rukia and Chad back in Seireitei, travelling in close formation along the edge of 5th division territory. Ichigo, who'd been set on getting home as quickly as possibly so he could send Karin out to speak to Ryūken, hesitated when the glint of running water in the distance caught his eye. Did he have time to stop? If he didn't, he'd make it, he decided. He'd been meaning to get over this far for weeks, but hadn't had the chance.

Pulsing his reiatsu to give the other two the heads-up, Ichigo swung north, cutting between the 5th and 7th and dropped out of shunpo beside a fast-flowing river that ran through a small commercial district.

"Problem?" Rukia asked, touching down on the warehouse roof beside him, hand on the hilt of her zanpakutō. Chad landed heavily on his other side, eyes wary.

"Dunno," Ichigo replied. "See anywhere that might sell medicines?" That was what the note from Kūkaku’s steward had said to look out for anyway. It'd also said that the place was close to the river, though as it turned out, that wasn't as much help as it might've been.

Turning in a half circle, Ichigo tried to get his bearings, but the whole area, from the river to the 7th division walls, seemed to be some kind of massive open-air laundry. One that catered to shinigami, going by the way black and white dominated long lines of drying clothing. Beneath the maze of criss-crossed lines, workers hauled huge baskets of washing and slaved over steaming tubs of water, the smell of soap and the sound of their raised voices as they talked and sang carried easily up to the high warehouse roof.

Was this where the 6th sent their dirty washing? It seemed like a long way, but it had to go somewhere and he'd have remembered if there was a place like this on their division doorstep, wouldn't he?

"There," Rukia said suddenly, pointing towards a line of smart looking buildings that backed onto the river. They all looked the same, with painted wooden signs, hanging from the eaves, and the road in front of them was bustling with through traffic, a lot of it involving water carriers with sloshing buckets.

Ichigo squinted at the stores. "Which one?" he asked. If the signs said anything, he was too far away to read it. Rukia had no such problem, apparently.

"On the end, sir." she said, indicating the one with the flower design.

It was amazing how she managed to make even 'sir' sound like an insult. Ichigo bit back a sigh. It was his own fault. If he hadn't made a point of saying he didn't want to be treated like someone special, she'd have no excuse. 

"You guys wait here, I'll be back in a mo," he said. 

Both Rukia and Chad fixed him with curious looks, Rukia's especially brimming with more questions. Ichigo ignored them. As far as he knew, only he and Kūkaku were in the know about Kaien and Miyako's son and Ichigo intended to keep it that way. And anyway, it wasn't like he was planning to do more than check that this was the right place.

Without a backward glance, he set off towards the shop. He'd only made it as far as the next roof over, when a yell of, "Izumi, Izumi, over here!" went up from a small gang of kids playing ball on the corner.

Ichigo stopped in his tracks, attention drawn to the dark-haired boy currently playing keep-up. He looked about eight or nine, though that didn't mean much in Soul Society, and his hair was cut short at the back, with long dark bangs that fell loose over his face. As Ichigo watched, the kid looked up, shaking off the flyaway strands, and for a second it was like seeing his younger-self all over again. 

Those features, as familiar as his own. Pointy chin and sharply-angled eyebrows. The down-turned mouth, that on Ichigo looked grumpy, fit Kaito better, making his expression fierce as he called out orders to his friends, sending them hopping backwards before he neatly kicked the ball in their direction.

The air shifting beside him was all the warning Ichigo got before a voice suddenly said, "You spoke to that cousin of yours, I see."

Ichigo spun, going for Zangetsu before the implications of who exactly was speaking sank in. 

"I wouldn't do that, if I was you," Aikawa-taichō continued. "The law takes a bit of a dim view of captains fighting each other in the streets."

Streets, division grounds, Rukongai. Captains fighting anywhere, in fact, except a challenge arena, was considered treason and a capital offence. With a puff of expelled air, Ichigo released his weapon and gave the man beside him a quizzical look. "A bit of warning would've been nice."

"Now, where's the fun in that," Aikawa shot back, a grin spreading across his heavy-featured face. "Anyhow, I reckon those guards of yours would've done a runner with you if I'd given them half a chance." He jerked a thumb towards the adjoining roof. "Wanna tell them to stand down?" 

Ichigo looked over in that direction, and found Rukia and Chad facing down two uniformed shinigami. All four had their swords drawn, though none seemed willing to make the first move. "It's okay," he called hurriedly, before one of them changed their minds. "We're just chatting."

The tip of Chad's blade dipped slightly, though Rukia looked unconvinced until Aikawa gestured sharply and his two soldiers sheathed their zanpakutō. Only then did both she and Chad do the same.

"Determined little thing, isn't she," Aikawa said, his gaze lingering overly long on Rukia. Ichigo was about to call him on it, when Aikawa frowned, "But not your lieutenant. Is that the sister I've heard about? The one who did a bunk from the 13th?"

Aikawa had thought she was Hisana too. Ichigo understood the confusion. Superficially, they did look a lot alike, though the longer Ichigo spent around the pair, the less he noticed it.

None of which had anything to do with the captain of the 7th. "Was there something you wanted?" Ichigo asked, standing up a bit straighter and folding his arms across his chest. Not that it made much of a difference. Aikawa had several inches on him and had to out-weigh Ichigo by at least fifty pounds. Not quite Chad's scale of massive, but still, the guy was big.

Currently, he was staring down his nose at Ichigo with an expression that might have been amused. Or maybe mad. It was difficult to tell.

"Apart from you being in my division's territory, about to stick your nose where it's not wanted?" he said.

"I was just-" Ichigo began, gesturing towards the shop.

"Going to go introduce yourself to Izumi-baasan?" Aikawa said, right over the top of him. "So she can meet the guy who killed her daughter and left her grandson an orphan, face-to-face?"

Well, shit. Put that way, it didn't sound very good. Ichigo grimaced. "I wasn't going to tell her," he said.

Aikawa's eyebrows rose. "You think she wouldn't recognise you?" He jerked his head towards the street, and all the people tramping back and forth along it. "And what about them, huh? What are they gonna make of someone in shinigami uniform with that face turning up and asking questions. You trying to bring disaster down on your cousin's head?"

He knew about Ichigo's relationship to Kaito? It was kind of inevitable, Ichigo guessed, since he'd been the one to put Ichigo onto Kūkaku in the first place, but still, it was worrying. What if Aikawa decided to use the kid to get at Ichigo? There was no way Ichigo could walk away if a member of his family was in danger.

But right now, that didn't seem to be what Aikawa was threatening. 

Deciding offence was the best defence under the circumstances, Ichigo shot back, "What's it to you? He's not your family."

Aikawa had the grace to look a bit sheepish at that. His gaze dropped to Kaito, still playing with his friends. "Because I kind of owe his mother," he said, his voice low and… was that regretful? However unlikely that seemed, it did tie in with Aikawa's worry that Ichigo might cause trouble. Did the guy actually care or something?

Ichigo moved closer to the edge of the roof, hunkering down to get a better view. On the street below, the ball came back Kaito's way and he began bouncing it on one foot and then the other in a controlled and steady way. The kid had skills, Ichigo realised, but he practised too. Thinking back to Karin's passion for soccer, maybe he should have sent her over to make contact. They could have bonded over stupid-long hours of keep-up.

There was a movement next to him. Aikawa had moved up and was standing over Ichigo, his arms folded as he watched the kids playing.

"Miyako came to me a few years ago and confessed everything," he said, continuing even though Ichigo hadn't pressed him for details. "She wanted me to take Kaito's claim on the Shiba clan to the challenge arena. Back then, there wasn't anyone who would have cared enough to dispute it, so long as someone strong was prepared to take a stand." Aikawa paused for a moment before shrugging, "Plus, you only had to look at the kid to know whose son he was. So I agreed to do it, once he was mature enough. No point putting a babe in that position. It'd be nothing but a death sentence.

"Anyway, before I could fulfil my part of the bargain, they found you and your father, and suddenly the Shiba were hot property again. Then Kuchiki went and declared you clan-head. Miyako was livid. As far as she was concerned, you stole her son's inheritance out from under him. She tried to get me to take up the challenge, fight Kuchiki for him. I refused." 

Ichigo glanced up at that, surprised Aikawa would admit to what sounded like cowardice. But the gaze Aikawa levelled back at him was direct and unapologetic. 

"Like I told her, fighting right then was pointless. At best, Kaito was only a branch member of the clan, you were Isshin's son, so your claim was stronger. She was better off sitting tight and taking a shot at you in a couple of months, once your guard was down. With you out of the way, we'd be right back in the driving seat with Kaito."

A good strategy, and one that had come scarily close to working. Ichigo swallowed hard. "She got herself hollowfied so she could kill me?"

Aikawa tilted his chin up and closed his eyes. "Damn fool girl. It was the only way she could think of to beat you." He shook his head and shot a squint-eyed look at Ichigo. "No one expected you to be as strong as you are, Shiba, or to end up as close to Kuchiki. And then, wonder of wonders, you all fell out and the rumours started that you and Abarai were preparing for a run, and it finally looked like Miyako might stand a chance. Then Kuchiki turned mass murderer and got himself declared a traitor, and there you were, the new captain of the 6th. Up to your eyeballs in guards and completely untouchable.

"But this time, there was no stopping her. By the time I found out what she was planning, it was too late. She was already dead. At your hands." With a regretful shake of his head, Aikawa sighed, "A waste of one sweet little lady. I tell you, boy, I never had better in my bed, not before nor since." 

Ichigo's lip curled in disgust. Based off that and what he remembered from seeing them together, it didn't exactly take a genius to work out the price Aikawa had extracted to get Kaito's claim championed. And here the guy was, talking about Miyako like she'd been his lover for real or something.

"She was safe too," Aikawa was saying. "They're right about that. If you can't own someone outright, then a loyal lieutenant's almost as good." He cocked an eyebrow at Ichigo. "But then you'd know all about that, wouldn't you."

Except Ichigo wasn't sleeping with Hisana, and he didn't own Chad either, though most people assumed he did. And that he was sleeping with him. The fact that it was a useful cover for both of them didn't make people's assumptions any easier to bear.

"Kuchiki had it made with you and Abarai, the clever bastard."

That was what he'd meant? Ichigo's stomach twisted at the implied comparison. His relationship with Byakuya and Renji was nothing like the one Aikawa'd had with Miyako. Theirs was real, not some pay-off for services rendered.

Wondering if he wouldn't be better off cutting his losses and leaving, Ichigo ignored Aikawa's knowing looks and focused instead on the plans he needed to make. Like finding someone to come and watch over Kaito, just in case Aikawa got any ideas.

But who? Everyone he trusted was already tied up. There was Yuzu, he guessed, though with no reiatsu to speak of, if anything happened, she'd be as vulnerable as the kid.

Long term, Karin could take some shifts. But first Ichigo needed to send her out to Ryūken to ask about the apartment. He wanted that sorted as soon as possible. The sex might have been good, but it hadn't escaped Ichigo's notice that Renji's stress levels were off the scales. And Byakuya was a mess. When a control freak went down, they went hard, apparently.

An asauchi would help there too. He needed to round one up and send it through to them as soon as possible. If the senkaimon was usable. What the hell had those soldiers been doing there anyway? Was it a regular patrol? Maybe he should send Rukia straight back to the Kyōraku estate to see. No, that wasn't fair. She needed to rest up some first.

"So, have you lot finalised any appointments yet?" Aikawa said suddenly.

Ichigo blinked, all thoughts about making things better for Byakuya and Renji totally derailed by the off-the-wall question. "What?" he said.

"I thought we'd have the new Central 46 up and running by now."

"Oh, ah…" Ichigo began, before parsing what Aikawa was talking about. He hadn't spared a thought for the appointments committee since he threw Yoruichi out of the 6th. Was there even a committee still? Ichigo hadn't a clue. "Actually, there's not been a meeting for weeks. I'm not sure we're even trying anymore."

Aikawa's reiatsu suddenly spiked hard, there and gone again just as quickly. 

Ichigo shot the guy a startled glance. What the hell? Something about the clan-heads not meeting or the judges not being appointed had rattled Aikawa, enough to make him lose control for a second. But what? 

Trying not to give himself away, Ichigo made a show of watching Kaito while studying the big captain out the corner of his eye. Aikawa was standing just like he had been, arms folded across his massive chest, his face a mask of studied indifference as he stared out over the local area. 

No, not just the local area. His gaze was more focused than that. Ichigo frowned in the direction Aikawa was looking. The white walls of the 7th division rose in the distance and beyond them, perched atop its hill like it was keeping a watching eye on all of them, loomed the Sōkyoku; the physical manifestation of the Soul King's authority in Seireitei. 

Except it wasn't the Soul King who wielded that power, it was Central 46. When there was a Central 46, that was. As Ichigo understood it, with them gone, the True First clan-heads took up the mantle. 

The same clan-heads who'd been on the committee that Ichigo had just admitted might be defunct.

A moment later, Aikawa shifted his weight from one foot to the other and said, in a deliberately bored tone, "It sounds like the nobility might be slacking off their duties." 

Back when news of Central 46's annihilation had hit the streets, it'd had taken mere hours for the Gotei 13 to start self-destructing. Then, the clan-heads invoking the Soul King's authority and the formation of the appointments committee had put the stops on the spiral towards open warfare. The divisions had pulled back into their own headquarters and business had returned to something like normal, with the captains temporarily sharing power over the Gotei in a kind of haphazard democracy. 

But would things stay that way if, say, news of the committee's collapse became public? If it looked like Central 46 was gone for good and no one had their hand on the Sōkyoku?

Ichigo swallowed hard. "I guess I should get on that, huh."

The look Aikawa cast his way was seething with something unidentifiable. "You do that," he said. "In the meantime, keep your nose out of my damned territory." And then he was gone, in a flit of shunpo that took him in an arrow straight line back to the 7th, his two guards close on his heels.

"What was that all about?" Rukia demanded a second later from just below Ichigo's left shoulder. Chad arrived on his right and Ichigo glanced over to reassure himself that his best friend was okay. He hadn't heard or seen anything going down, but still, those 7th division shinigami had been carrying zanpakutō. Chad's sword was simple steel.

Steady dark eyes met his own and Ichigo relaxed a little. "Nothing much," he said, shrugging one shoulder dismissively. "Just Aikawa deciding he didn't like my face. Let's go."

*

They were signing in at the guardhouse when Rukia's belly let out a loud and intrusive rumble. Ichigo, who'd been smothering a yawn himself, smirked down at her flushed face and said, "Consider yourself off-duty, Sagara-sanseki. I don't want to see you again for at least twelve hours."

It was testament to how much they'd been pushing themselves that Rukia didn't even hesitate. With a shallow bow, she shot off towards the main building, to the seated officers quarters by way of the mess, probably.

Ichigo set off in the opposite direction, shooting a glance back at Chad as he went. "You still okay for a bit?" he asked. Chad nodded, though the dark circles under his eyes said otherwise. The last forty-eight hours had definitely done a number on him as well as Rukia. 

Right, well, there were things Ichigo had to deal with before he could rest, but there was no reason for Chad to suffer too. "Dig Karin out and send her up to the office, will you. And round me up some food," Ichigo told him, "then you can go crash." As an afterthought, for any curious ears that might be listening, he added, "I'll join you in bed later."

The slight twitch of Chad's lips made colour rise in Ichigo's cheeks. But only for a moment, and mostly just out of habit. His body still ached from Byakuya and Renji's attentions, there was no space in his heart to desire anyone else.

With a narrow-eyed glare at his best friend, Ichigo stalked off towards his office. No one was expecting him back for hours, so with luck he'd at least be able to eat before Hisana arrived to dump whatever problems had come up while he'd been away in his lap. 

As he turned the final corner into his office corridor, two figures rose to greet him. To match them, twin strident voices cried, "Shiba-sama!" "My lord!" 

So much for some quiet time. 

"Shin, Rami," he said, avoiding eye contact with the bickering pair as he swept past them into his office. When they both moved to follow him, he slid the door closed in their faces, adding a firm, "Ten minutes, then I'll see you." 

Once their aghast faces were no longer visible, Ichigo turned and pressed his back against the door with a silent internal groan. He should have expected something like this to happen. They'd been fighting like cats and dogs for weeks now, and him being away, even for a couple of days was bound to set them off.

The other side of the desk, Hanatarō was a mess of apologetic bowing, bobbing up and down fast enough to make Ichigo’s head spin. "I'm so sorry, Shiba-sama. I expected them to get bored and leave before you got back."

Ichigo waved a reassuring hand at him. "It's okay. I just wish they'd remember I'm their employer, not their damned-" He snapped his teeth closed around the word 'parent', just in time. If only Koji and Moyu _were_ still alive, they wouldn't be having this damned problem. "Any idea what they're fighting about?"

Hanatarō gripped his hakama tighter and shook his head hard. "I'm sorry, sir, they didn't say. Just that it was very important and that they had to see you."

Just like every other time. Damn it, when he'd offered Shin the job as his personal servant, he'd never expected the guy to have to step into Koji's shoes as clan steward. Especially not so soon. But when Koji's death had left the job open, Shin had seemed like the logical choice. Trustworthy and in the know about a lot of Ichigo's secrets, in theory he should have been perfect.

A couple of months later, Ichigo knew he'd been wrong. The simple truth was, Shin hadn't a clue how to run a household, let alone a clan, and Rami, despite being her parents' daughter, only knew enough to know that what Shin was doing was wrong. Hence the major falling out.

With a sigh, Ichigo pushed off the door and trod tiredly across the room. "Okay, thanks anyway." 

Hanatarō didn't look any less distraught, but then he rarely did when there were a lot of emotions flying around, especially when the people involved were bleeding reiatsu all over. Maybe getting a bit of distance between him and them would help. 

Settling himself down behind his desk, Ichigo said, "Chad's rounding up lunch for me. You wanna go tell him you can handle it and he can go get some rest?"

"Yes, sir," Hanatarō was saying, when his head suddenly swung towards the door, as though he could see straight through it. "Sagara-fukutaichō is coming. Shall I let her in?"

Damn, there went getting to eat a meal in peace too.

"You might as well," Ichigo said, sitting down and grabbing the first sheet of paper on the pile in his in-box. It was Koniwa's medical report. Ichigo rubbed at his forehead, his joy at having seen his lovers evaporating rapidly in the face of the grinding monotony that was ninety percent of his life. 

"You're back early," Hisana said as she came in.

Ichigo glanced up just in time to see Hanatarō vanish into the corridor as Hisana closed the door behind him. There was no sign of Shin and Rami, so with luck they'd moved back down the corridor to the official waiting area. 

"There was a glitch, we had to come home early," Ichigo said, lowering the papers with a frown. "Hey, you got any idea why there might be a contingent of shinigami poking around up at the Kyōraku estate?"

"None at all, sir," Hisana sniffed disapprovingly as she put the papers she was carrying down on the edge of the desk. "But then, since it is Kyōraku-taichō's estate, one would have to assume he has every right to send his people up there to 'have a poke around'."

The woman really was an expert in understated snark. As far as she was concerned, Ichigo should be putting his efforts into getting Byakuya cleared of his supposed crimes and back home, not heading off for 'booty calls' in the living world.

"I guess you're right," Ichigo replied, and glanced through the first few paragraphs of the medical report. "Oh, cool. Koniwa's fit for duty again. Tell him I'll expect him back in the office tomorrow." Maybe then he could use Rukia to watch Kaito. Stealing her from her duties for the odd weekend when she was the only third seat was one thing, but that would be a semi-permanent posting.

The temperature in the office seemed to drop by several degrees. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" Hisana said.

Considering the way she normally spoke to him, that didn't sound good. Ichigo raised his head slowly and nodded. "Permission granted, Sagara-fukutaichō." If she wanted the protection of formality, he could give it to her.

Standing stiffly with her hands straight at her sides, just like she had the day Byakuya had promoted her, when she'd told him he was wrong to send Renji off with Ichigo as his fukutaichō, Hisana said, "Shiba-taichō, sir, you can't re-instate Koniwa Ueji as third seat. Everyone in the division knows he's a traitor-"

"But I forgave-" Ichigo put in, only for Hisana to continue right over the top of him, "That Koniwa was the one who told the 2nd about you being gone, and let Soifon and her people into division grounds." 

Where they'd then captured and tortured those they thought responsible for Ichigo's absence. Hisana included. "Hisana-" Ichigo began. 

Her gaze, which had been aimed about three inches to the right of Ichigo's ear, finally met his, and it burned. The words died unspoken in his mouth as she said, "Ichigo- Sir, after what he did, no one will obey him. Not the seated officers, nor the rank and file. And if he tries to discipline anyone for refusing, the other officers might revolt. Sir, if any of that happens, the authority of the whole officer corps will be undermined. You'll lose control of the division."

Ichigo stared at her, denials on the tip of his tongue because that was stupid. Ichigo had forgiven Koniwa. The guy had only done what he'd done because he genuinely believed that Ichigo was either in danger or already murdered. And when he found out what had really happened, he tried to kill himself out of shame, for crap's sake! As far as Ichigo was concerned, the guy had been tested and he'd come through the fire with full marks. 

But if Hisana said no one else was going to see it that way, he had to believe her. It was for exactly this kind of situation that Byakuya had appointed her lieutenant. She was the expert when it came to man-management and politics.

He sighed and rubbed his palms over his face. "Fine, so what am I going to do with him then?" She opened her mouth to speak, and Ichigo added, "And don't tell me to dismiss him. That is not an option." It would have been kinder to let the guy gut himself than to chuck him out now. The 12th were always on the prowl, and getting more confident by the day. 

Was it that which had led Aikawa to ask after the appointments committee? Crap, if Kurotsuchi got wind of it having failed, there'd be no stopping him. Ichigo shuddered, thinking back to the chaos Chad had described at the 13th. No, no way could he let that happen to another division. Somehow they had to make the committee work.

Putting aside the problem of Koniwa for a moment, he said, "I need to get a message to Yoruichi."

"Business or personal," Hisana replied, cottoning on to the change of subject without breaking stride.

"Business," Ichigo said. "Urgent business." But would she listen? They hadn't exactly parted on good terms. He'd all but had her thrown out of division grounds, and taken measures to stop her sneaking back in. Not that it stopped her tracking him when he went outside. Hardly an outing went by without him feeling that odd lick across his reiatsu.

At least he assumed it was her. If it wasn't, there was some kinky bastard out there with a taste for him.

So, probably, passing the buck to Yoruichi about the committee wasn't the way to go. Maybe if he organised it himself instead? They could hold it at the house. Yuzu would love that. She adored having visitors and they didn't get many.

"Taichō?" Hisana said.

Ichigo blinked up at her. She looked ready to run off with the message as soon as he told it. "Rethink," he said, pushing back from the desk and standing up. "Let's do invitations. Something formal. On decent paper, with fancy calligraphy. You know, the kind of thing Byakuya used to pull out his-" At her filthy look, he managed to change 'ass' to something more polite at the last moment, "desk drawer at a moment's notice." 

"Invitations to what?" she asked, with more than a bit of snip left in her voice.

"The next sitting of the Central 46 appointment's committee," he said.

Hisana blinked at him. "But that's strictly True First clan business, not divisional," she said. "Last time, it didn't matter so much, it being an emergency, but with the way you left things with Yoruichi-sama, she's likely to use anything as an excuse not to come. Not to mention Kyōraku-taichō."

Damn it, she was right again. "Okay," he said, "send Shin in, I'll get him to do it."

*

"Can't Sagara-fukutaichō do it?" Shin asked when they called him in. He cast a woeful look at Hisana, who was standing to one side of Ichigo's desk, her arms folded across her chest. Whatever he saw on her face made him flinch, and he turned back to Ichigo, his face drawn beneath his tightly tied queue. "It's more her sorta thing with all the politics and stuff, honest."

The trouble with Shin was, for a clan's house steward, he made an excellent spy.

Hard on the heels of that thought, came another, much more horrible, one. "Shin?" Ichigo said. "Can you actually write?" He'd kind of assumed, since Shin was an adult, but the rules were different here. For starters, unlike in Seireitei, there were no schools out in Rukongai.

Shin looked shifty. "I read better, m'lord."

He'd need to, with the line of work he used to be in. "That wasn't what I asked," Ichigo said, injecting a note of seriousness into his voice. "I'm not mad with you, I just need to know. This is important."

Fingers knotting in front of him, Shin's gaze met Ichigo's for a brief second before flitting away again. "I can write my name and kana, and some kanji."

But nothing like enough to put together the kind of letter Ichigo wanted him to write. Damn it. Was this the problem Rami was having too? Ichigo could imagine Shin's partial illiteracy being an issue for lots of things a steward had to do. 

Still, it was a problem that could fix, if Shin wanted. And in the meantime maybe Hisana would just draft something out for him. As he opened his mouth to ask, Ichigo saw Hisana stiffen, as if she knew exactly what was coming, and changed his mind. Her pride in her rank was second only to her pride in the division. Asking her to take a servant's role, even anonymously, when there wasn't a crisis to demand it, wasn't fair. And anyway, it wasn't like Ichigo couldn't write his own damned invitations.

"All right, Shin, that'll be all," he said, gesturing to the door. 

Shin glanced towards it and back at Ichigo, then sagged. "Yes, m'lord."

At a guess, he didn't want to go and face Rami. Well tough, he'd just have to. 

As he left, Ichigo glanced at Hisana, "Go with him. Make sure they at least get off division grounds before they start screaming at each other."

Maybe she sensed his frustration, but anyway, for once she didn't question him, just nodded a bow and hurried out after Shin. Ichigo dropped his head into his hands and fought the urge to punch something as he listened to the door open and close. Why was it always so damned hard to get anything done around here? There was always some problem, some stupid issue.

His eyes fell on Koniwa's medical report, still the top document on his desk, and the frustration with Hisana's objection to Koniwa being reinstated came roaring back. With no spare third seat, Ichigo couldn't use Rukia to watch Kaito, and he had to have someone out there, damn it. If things took a turn for the worse politically, he had to have someone watching the kid's back.

Shin would have been ideal. There was a job he was actually experienced in doing; keeping his eyes open and his profile low. Plus, him being Ichigo's servant would keep the whole Kaito thing totally separate from divisional business. But Shin was busy being a crap house steward, and there wasn't anyone else who could take on his job. Rami was way too busy running the actual household, to run clan business too. 

Could Ichigo maybe take Koniwa on and set him to guarding Kaito and his grandmother?

Or… 

In his mind, Ichigo swapped the two men around. Koniwa could write, and well. Ichigo remembered reading the guy's reports. And he was minor nobility, so he at least should have a clue as to how a clan should operate.

"You wanted to see me?" Karin's voice followed the sound of the door opening. Perfect. 

Ichigo raised his head and levelled a serious look at her. "Can you think of any reason why Koniwa wouldn't be okay as our clan steward?"

Karin's eyes widened a little, he must have caught her by surprise, and then narrowed again in thought. For a long moment she stood motionless, one hand still on the door, the other holding a stack of papers across her chest, and didn't answer. A good sign, Ichigo reckoned, since she'd be sure to tell him exactly what she thought if he'd got it wrong.

Finally she huffed quietly and shook her head. "I wouldn't have gone there myself, but off the top of my head, beyond the obvious, none," she said, padding silently across the floor to shove more papers under his nose. "If he'll do it."

By obvious, she had to mean the treachery issue. "You didn't see him when Yuzu was treating him," Ichigo told her as he took the unwelcome gift she held out. "He knew he'd screwed up, big time."

"Maybe. At least if he's up at the house, he won't be hanging around the division anymore. It's making people nervous. Dead, he would have been a great scapegoat. Alive, he just reminds people of how quick most of them were to follow him and turn against you." 

A good point, and different from the one Hisana had made. It all added up though, and gave Ichigo ammunition to use when he offered Koniwa the new position. Shin, he thought, would probably welcome the 'demotion'.

"Plus," Karin continued in a lighter tone, "you'll be right there on top of him, ready to squash him flat if he does screw up again."

As she was speaking, Ichigo ran his eyes over what she'd handed him. It was the numbers for this quarter's compulsory recruitment quota, and even Ichigo could tell that they were coming up short. 

He was about to ask what the problem was when Hisana pushed the door open. "Did you give him those numbers?" she asked.

"Just," Karin said, gesturing at Ichigo. "He's reading them now."

Hisana's gaze moved to Ichigo. "Well?" she said.

"We're coming up short. Why?" Normally people were falling over themselves to come to the 6th. They had to turn bodies away.

Without asking, Hisana pulled up a chair and sat down. "I could say it was all your fault, with the refugees and what-not, but that would be being uncharitable." She sighed quietly. "The accusations against Kuchiki-taichō are the worst of it. The 6th's reputation as the epitome of honour and lawfulness has disintegrated. Now, half of Seireitei sees us as a hot bed of treason and sedition. It'll take years for that to go back to normal, and in the meantime, all those Seireitei-born eligibles who used to be queueing up to join us are holding off, or going elsewhere. I heard Tosen-taichō's already had a big influx. Not that he doesn't need them. The 13th is still running at less than half recommended numbers."

Whereas they were running at over twice, and still had to recruit. This system was so fucked up.

"Okay, so where do we get the extras from then?" Ichigo said, leaning back in his chair. 

"The camps," Hisana replied.

Karin made an odd sound and grimaced. Ichigo shot a narrow-eyed glare at her. "There's nothing wrong with the camps," he said, because even the suggestion that Karin was picking up the prejudices that ran so deep through Soul Society made him feel sick.

"There's plenty wrong with them, Ichi-nii," she shot back, "but that's not the problem. It's timing."

He looked from her to Hisana in confusion. Hisana picked up the thread. "The 6th has always recruited from the camps. We have three officers on permanent rotation travelling between them signing up likely kids before anyone else can snap them up." She indicated herself. "That was how I got recruited, years ago, when Kuchiki-taichō's uncle was still captain. This would be different."

"Different how?" Ichigo asked, now genuinely curious.

"We have to take what's left," Karin said, half under her breath.

Hisana shot her a look that was devoid of expression before she continued, "Karin's not wrong. Basically, those available will be the ones with borderline levels of spiritual pressure or other problems, impairments." She looked uncomfortable. "They're not really fit to be shinigami at all."

"They shouldn't be shinigami," Karin blurted. "They're nothing but a freaking liability on the front-line. People get killed trying to keep them safe and-" 

She cut herself off, expression turning inward but hurt and cold, and Ichigo remembered the friend she'd told him about. The one who'd been injured and had killed himself to avoid a medical discharge. Was that how he'd been hurt? Saving one of these people?

"We have serving shinigami right now who are too weak to be on the front-lines," he said. It wasn't a question. It didn't need to be. 

"Not many," Hisana replied hastily. "And all of them are Seireitei born. Minor nobility, mostly. They have to go somewhere and their families don't have anything else for them to do. They're dead-weight."

"So they apply somewhere their names carry more influence than their power."

"It beats suicide, sir, which is their only other choice."

Ichigo closed his eyes. Damn it, he hated this place so fucking much. It ate people up and spit them out without a second thought, and no one ever thought to fight it. Likes lambs to the slaughter, they just queued up to get their throats cut.

No one seemed inclined to say anything for a couple of minutes, but finally Ichigo slammed his hands down on the desk and said, "Can't we find them something that isn't on the front-lines? Administration or building work or something, I dunno."

Hisana shrugged a shoulder, but she didn't object to the idea on principle. And when Ichigo glanced up at Karin, she just looked away.

"Fine," he said, "then we'll do that."

"Very good, sir," Hisana said, rising to her feet. "I'll send someone out to sign up the requisite number."

"No," Ichigo said, standing as well. "If we're doing this, I'm going myself. It's way past time I got to see the camps anyway." Because until he had all the facts, he couldn't work out how to go about changing it.

"Are you sure about that, taichō? Security-"

"Will not be an issue." Neatly piling the papers into stacks, Ichigo placed them carefully to one side before levelling a determined gaze at his lieutenant, who, for all her casual attitude most of the time, was a total motherhen when it came to Ichigo going out alone. "Don't forget, Sagara-fukutaichō, I have bankai now. That should make me more than capable of dealing with anything that comes up."

Hisana looked away, swallowing uneasily, but she didn't argue. A second later, she ducked a bow, "Then I'll go make the arrangements, sir. If you'll excuse me."

She got as far as the door before Ichigo remembered to call after her, "Oh, and tell Koniwa I want to see him, will you. I've decided to give him Shin's job. He'd make a good clan steward, I reckon."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," she said with another bob of her head. "Good idea, sir. What about Shin?"

"Oh, erm… I'll find something for him to do," Ichigo hedged, feeling a flush rise in his cheeks at the lie. 

She gave him a sceptical look before saying, "I'll send Koniwa up directly, Shiba-taichō."

As she pulled the door back, Hanatarō, who was out in the corridor, loaded down with a very full looking tray, let out a little squeak of surprise. Hisana, ignoring his profuse apologies, stepped around him and left without a backward glance.

Ichigo watched her go, wishing, not for the first time, that he could tell her everything. But he couldn't. The fewer people who knew about Ryūken and Uryū the better, and the same went for Kaito. As the 6th's lieutenant, Hisana deserved to know about Renji and Byakuya, but she wasn't clan, she didn't need to know the rest. It was safer that way.

"So what was it you wanted to see me about?" Karin asked.

Ichigo blinked out of his reverie, to see Karin had taken Hisana's chair and was busy pouring tea and dishing up lunch. For two. Chad must have told her he was getting food for Ichigo and offered to pick some up for her. There was no sign of Hanatarō. He must have gone already, and was probably outside, keeping watch for eavesdroppers. 

As he took his seat, Ichigo's mouth started watering at the smells wafting up from the myriad dishes as she uncovered them. "Is that Yuzu's curry?" he asked, already knowing the answer because no one made curry like Yuzu did. Sitting down, he picked up his chopsticks, dipping out a piece of shrimp before Karin had even served and made no attempt to conceal the happy sounds the familiar spicy rich taste elicited. 

Karin smirked across at him. "So why did you want to see me? Not just about Koniwa."

Shaking his head, Ichigo swallowed the delectable mouthful. "No, I need you to go and see oji-san."

"Again?" Lips curving down into a frown, Karin paused halfway through passing Ichigo his bowl. He resisted the urge to make grabby hands at it. "What are you plotting now, Ichi-nii?" she demanded. "And how come you're back so early, anyhow."

"The two things kind of go together," Ichigo said, finally getting his lunch. He put it down on the desk in front him, took a deep breath, flavoured with spice and meat, and proceeded to let her in on his plan for getting Byakuya and Renji a decent place to live.


	6. Dragging Down - The Party Line.

As they shunpo'd along the edge of the vast inland sea that made up most of districts six-south and seven-west, Ichigo yanked his hat further down over his ears and thanked all the gods he'd actually listened to Hisana when she'd told him to wear something warm and waterproof. In summer this area probably looked like a holiday resort, but right now, in the middle of winter, freezing winds whipped the waves to a white frothy mass, then spit it in a fine mist for hundreds of yards inland, leaving the pebbled beach coated with a thin sheen of ice. 

When they first hit it, Ichigo had suggested moving further away from the water, up into the hills, but Hashigami had just grunted and told him that, no, the extra salt in the air closer to the sea, meant the ice built up less. 

Here and there along the coastline, they passed through the small villages that were responsible for the bulk of the fish that ended up on Seireitei's tables. They weren't much to look at, collections of weathered grey huts with lines of weathered grey boats stretching out into the misty water, their crews hunched inside them like waiting seabirds, staring down into the depths. Ichigo left them behind with a nagging sense that legends of the River Styx might have had some basis in fact.

They were heading for what Hisana had called Ginzan or Silver Mountain camp. It was supposed to be on a tree-covered promontory that stuck out into the sea, but even as the rocky finger of land came into view and then loomed above them, Ichigo couldn't see anything that looked campish. Though there was a collection of buildings nestled by the shore - which they went straight past.

"Isn't that it?" Ichigo asked more than a bit petulantly. He could hardly feel his toes and his nose was starting to drip. 

Hashigami shook his head, saying, "That down there's the smelting works," and pointed further up the mist-wreathed mountain. "The camp's inside."

Inside? Ichigo didn't have a chance to question what he meant. Wending their way between towering pine trees draped in moss, they continued shunpo'ing upward. Here and there, the roadway dropped away to nothing more than jagged impassable rocks and, in those places, stretches of wire were bolted to the sheer face. When Ichigo paused above one to catch his breath, he noticed a spill of smaller dark-grey rocks below. The wires had to be part of some kind of winching equipment, he guessed, for lowering the raw silver, or whatever it was you made the metal out of, down to the bottom.

Finally, they reached something of a clearing created by the pathway splitting into two. The wider better paved path curved away downward like it was heading for the far side of the mountain, while the other continued up a steep valley lined with fallen moss-covered boulders. Sheer rock rose on either side to well past head height and above that, more trees grew, though these were twisted and stunted by the wind. 

At the junction of the ways stood a massive gong hung on a sturdy frame. Hashigami strode forwards, grabbed the mallet and smacked it hard against the metal. The noise smashed out, loud and deep enough to resonate through Ichigo's bones, and echoing back and forth off the hillsides, almost drowning out the rising sound of voices coming down the narrow valley. 

A moment later, several figures appeared on the pathway. All were dressed in shinigami black, but only the leader, a youngish looking guy with long braided hair, boasted a decent amount of reiatsu, and he was huge, more than big enough to dwarf Hashigami. Hells, Ichigo reckoned as he came closer, this one'd even give Chad a run for his money. 

The giant stopped a suitable distance away, bowed, and bellowed in tones better suited to a parade ground, "Welcome to Ginzan camp, Shiba-taichō! Enjōji Tatsufusa, eighth seat, 9th division, at your service!"

One of Muguruma-taichō's men. Ichigo had been expecting it. In her 'don't get into trouble' sending-off speech, Hisana had said that all the camps were guarded by members of the 9th division. It was their specialism, like it was the 11th's job to patrol Rukongai and pick up anyone with reiatsu and the 3rd's to maintain the dangai. Divisions like the 6th with no other commitments, did extra tours of duty in the Living World to pick up the slack.

"We're here for some bodies," Hashigami rasped. Oddly, his soft voice seemed clearer out here in the mountains.

"So the butterfly informed us. Please come this way, sirs!" Enjōji bowed again and gestured up the pathway, now lined on either side by bowing shinigami. 

Ichigo took a step forwards, only for Hashigami to put a hand on his arm and say, "We'll follow you," to Enjōji. 

The 9th divisioner's glance flickered between the two of them and his shoulders dropped just the tiniest amount before he plastered a broad smile across his face and said, "It will be as you say! We will see you at the top!" and set off back up the valley.

"Idiot," Hashigami snarled even before the guy was out of earshot. "You wanna take him out, taichō, or let it pass this time?"

Okay, Ichigo was obviously missing something here. "Let what pass," he asked, keeping his voice down as they started forwards.

Hashigami's steps faltered for the briefest moment. "He was gonna jump you somewhere up this path," he said. 

Jump them? Ichigo immediately straightened, his hand resting on Zangetsu's hilt as his gaze leapt to the suddenly more threatening trees and looming rock walls of the valley. "You think he'll still try it?"

"Only if he wants his head taken off his shoulders," Hashigami replied. "Eighth seat like him wouldn't stand a chance against a captain and a fourth seat."

Unless he had some trick up his sleeve or someone else on his side. 

In a way, that thought made the sudden flare of captain-level reiatsu behind them come as less of a surprise. Ichigo had Zangetsu halfway out of its sheath before he remembered that he was a captain now and so couldn't be the one to fight whoever that was incoming.

He backed off a couple of steps saying, "If there's any seated with them, I take them out of the picture," as Hashigami drew his blade.

"With all due respect, sir," Hashigami replied, taking his stance. "If there's seated officers with 'em and they're looking for trouble, you should get the hell out of here."

The next moment, three figures shimmered out of shunpo at the foot of the valley, almost exactly where Ichigo and Hashigami had landed earlier. One of them even took a step towards the gong, before noticing they had company and putting his hand on his zanpakutō instead. Ichigo though only had eyes for the captain. Masked and dark-skinned, he was absolutely unmistakable, though the last time Ichigo had seen him, he hadn't been wearing a white haori.

"Tōsen," Ichigo called, remembering at the last moment not to include an honorific. "What brings you all the way out here."

"To recruit, the same as you," Tōsen replied, starting up the path towards them. His men followed a few steps behind and, since none of them had their swords drawn, Ichigo gestured for Hashigami to sheathe his blade as well. Tōsen ignored the fourth seat as he walked past him up the hill, and only dipped his head in a shallow nod to Ichigo as he came up to him.

Ichigo returned the greeting warily and they started up the rock strewn path together, walking side by side so neither had the advantage of being behind the other's back. They'd only gone a few yards when Tōsen said, "Actually I'm surprised to see you here. The last I heard, the 6th had an excess of bodies."

"Ah," Ichigo replied vaguely, not wanting to admit that they were having difficulties filling the quota. "We can always use more."

"Then again, maybe it's more about your usual sources drying up."

Oh, why did he bother trying to hide anything? It was like everyone in Seireitei had a direct line to his brain. Ichigo huffed. "It's stupid having these quarterly quotas. We don't need any more people. I've got them sleeping in the corridors already."

Tōsen nodded. "So I'd heard. That can't be easy for you." He paused, "Or cheap, given the sudden loss of one of your major sources of funding."

That was one way of putting it. Ichigo was quite happy to keep making up the shortfall for now, but he wasn't a Kuchiki. His pockets weren't bottomless, damn it. 

"Ironic, then, that I do need recruits and yet can only take as many as my quota allows."

"Dumb, not ironic," Ichigo shot back with a glare. "Like most of the rules in this place, it makes no sense at all."

Tōsen's lips twitched. "It ensures that as many suitable souls as possible are recruited into the Gotei," he replied. "On that level, it functions very well."

"I guess." Ichigo puffed an annoyed breath of air. "You'd just think, if it was that damned important, that there'd be some way of making sure they ended up where they were needed." He paused as they came over a rise and said, "What the hell's that?"

Ahead of them, the grey granite walls of the valley suddenly drew inward and the path was blocked by what looked at first glance like a rockfall. Constructed of boulders and tree trunks, and covered in snow and fallen leaves, it would have looked completely natural, but for the obvious effort someone had put into creating a convenient looking set of steps up the front. Going by Enjōji's stupid earlier, Ichigo reckoned that what he was looking at was more deadfall that rockfall.

With an irritated curl of his lip, he stomped forward and yelled, "Are you fucking serious about this?"

Tōsen, who'd stayed back from the barrier, said, "There's several powerful kidō implanted within."

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, still glaring around for any sign of Enjōji. "The guy in charge of this place is looking to bag himself a captain. As if a set-up like that'd take one of us out."

"Agreed. Though, if it weren't for your awareness of a plot, it might have taken my officers unawares."

Ichigo was tempted to suggest that, if that was the case, then Tōsen's officers weren't up to much but, since it had been Hashigami who'd stopped Ichigo from walking straight into this particular trap, it seemed disingenuous. 

"Of course, it could be that the structure is part of the security for the camp," Tōsen suggested, gesturing to the sheer walls above and sharp drop off below. "To dissuade any who might seek to escape back to Rukongai."

That, was actually scarily possible. Ichigo had never been to any of the camps, but he couldn't imagine why anyone stayed in them voluntarily, except for the food. The impression he'd got from those shinigami who'd spent any time in them was that they were hellholes. So, yeah, a barrier that exploded and totally buried the only way in and out seemed like an excellent way of stopping a mass escape attempt.

But being a security measure didn't prevent it from being rigged as a booby-trap. And like idiots, they were standing right beneath it.

Before Ichigo could move, a sudden rush of reiatsu heralded Enjōji appearing above them, silhouetted against the sky atop the barrier, one foot up on a boulder like he was crushing it beneath him. It looked like he'd practised the pose for hours. "Shiba-taichō!" he called down, tone jovially gloating. "Finally I have one of you in my grasp! Surrender now and-" His mouth snapped shut suddenly and his next words were a stuttered, "T-Tōsen-taichō. I was not expecting you so soon, sir."

"D'you know this clown?" Ichigo asked, jerking a thumb towards Enjōji.

"Unfortunately, yes," Tōsen replied. "He has sent several butterflies to me suggesting himself as my new lieutenant." 

Which would put him and Tōsen on the same side, and Ichigo at a distinct disadvantage. Ichigo's hand drifted to Zangetsu, his heart thudding a little harder in his throat. Would this come down to a fight after all? "And are you considering him?" he asked.

Tōsen replied by striding past Ichigo so he had his back to him, and staring straight at the man on the top of the barrier. In a loud voice, he said, "As captain of the 13th division, I expect intelligence and competence in my seated officers. Would you call yourself such, Enjōji Tatsufusa?"

Yeah, no. If Enjōji was the last shinigami available, Tōsen was still passing him over. 

Ichigo let himself relax, though not completely. Whether the kidō-laced barrier was a security measure or some kind of half-assed attempt at a trap by Enjōji, he'd still be happier on the other side of it. A quick step of shunpo and he was past the eighth seat, who flinched in surprise when Ichigo landed behind him. How long had the guy been out here, anyway, if ordinary shunpo surprised him?

A heartbeat later, Tōsen landed on his other side. Enjōji flinched again, this time the other way. It would have been funny, if it weren't so pathetic.

Hashigami quickly followed, taking his place just to Ichigo's right, and after him came Tōsen's two officers. One of them, a tall guy with a goatee and dark hair held back by white plaited headband, Ichigo recognised from previous visits to the 13th, though he had no clue what he might be called. It was good to know some of Ukitake's people were still in the line-up though.

It was bitingly cold on the top of the barrier, but now he was up here, Ichigo could see the way the whole structure was rigged to bring down half the hillside behind it. If that kidō had gone off, anyone caught unawares on the path would have been swept away, and anyone not capable of shunpo would have been be killed for sure. 

"You want me to deal with this?" asked Hashigami in a quiet rasp. 

'This' was undoubtedly Enjōji, who now he was surrounded, looked ready to piss himself. Ichigo tried to feel sorry for him and failed, since it didn't take a genius to work out that the guy had been planning on handing Ichigo over to Tōsen as some kind of 'please employ me', gift.

The trouble was, letting Hashigami have his head would probably lead to Enjōji losing his, and with him being the supervisor out here, that might be a problem. Not to mention the fall out with Muguruma when he discovered Ichigo had allowed one of his men to be killed. No, there had to be some clever way of dealing with this, though off-hand Ichigo couldn't think what it might be.

He was about to tell Hashigami to let it go for now when there was a flash of steel. Ichigo's reaction was all instinct. He slammed into Hashigami and their half step of shunpo was just enough to keep them out the arc of blood as Enjōji's head suddenly flew from his shoulders and his body crashed lifeless to the ground.

"Holy shit!" Ichigo cursed as the head rolled across the ground to his feet and blinked up at him once before awareness completely faded. "Warn a guy when you're gonna do that!"

"My apologies," Tōsen said, not looking the least bit sorry as he flicked blood off his blade and sheathed it again. "I didn't expect you to be taken by surprise. After all, the man tried to make fools of us both."

Which, the last Ichigo heard, wasn't actually a death sentence anywhere except freaking Soul Society. Honestly, most places just had on the spot fines, Seireitei had on the spot executions. It was insane.

Heart still thumping, Ichigo let go of Hashigami, who was giving Enjōji's body a thoroughly approving look, and said, "Fine, it's a bit late to complain now, anyway. Except now who's gonna look after this place with him gone? None of the other guys have got reiatsu worth spit." He could leave Hashigami, he supposed, but Ichigo had a bad feeling that if he went home without him, Hisana might just send him back.

"I shall supply someone temporarily," replied Tōsen calmly, gesturing to the officer Ichigo recognised. "Kotsubaki can stay until a replacement can be sent."

The man in question looked unimpressed at his new assignment, but he didn't protest as he set off towards the group of shinigami watching them from further up the hill. They all shuffled a few steps back but ducked as one into deep bows when he landed. Having just seen what happened to people who crossed Tōsen, Ichigo couldn't really blame them. 

Giving the other captain a wary look, Ichigo headed on up the path himself. Up behind the waiting shinigami, the slope climbed again, steeper this time and then the full mine complex suddenly came into view. It was vast. As far as the eye could see, narrow paths, just visible behind moss-draped trees and ferns, wound like pale veins between rough terraces cut into the hillside. And each of those terraces boasted at least one regular shaped dark splotch. They had to be mine shafts, Ichigo guessed, or something to do with the way the mine worked anyway. Air shafts maybe, because there were so many of them spread across the side of the hill that it kind of looked like someone had fired a massive shotgun at it.

The rest of the shinigami, with Kotsubaki in the lead, sped up the hill and vanished underground as Ichigo stood awestruck. Tōsen and his remaining officer followed soon after, leaving Ichigo to make his own way up the slope with Hashigami on his heels. 

From closer to, it was easy to see which were the shaft entrances and which were for air or to pump out water. The pathways leading up to the larger of the holes were well paved, worn smooth in places from the tramp of thousands of feet. And heaped up beside them were tools and baskets full of dark grey and brown squarish rocks. Was this the silver they mined here? Ichigo couldn't imagine spending hours every day hacking it out of the ground. 

He crouched beside one of the baskets and picked up a single piece of the ore, turning it round to examine it more closely. It was heavier than he'd expected and felt almost slick beneath his fingers, reminiscent of the coins it was destined to become. 

"This way, Shiba-taichō, please, if you don't mind, sir." It was one of the shinigami who'd left with Kotsubaki, and he looked terrified at having to hurry Ichigo along.

Tōsen had already gone ahead. Ichigo followed, ducking through the low entrance and nearly cracking his head on the ceiling when he tried to stand up again. He compromised by walking in kind of half-crouch that was murder on his back and thighs, and tried not to think of the people who did this for hours everyday. From behind, Hashigami's muttered curses suggested it got even worse when you got taller.

The tunnel was narrow and dark, and soon the kidō floating above their escort's hand was only source of light. It was hot too, and airless. Too long and it'd get suffocating. And sound did strange things. Breath turned into cries and footsteps echoed and got magnified and distorted until it sounded like there were hundreds of pairs of feet, not just three. As the walls started to close in around him and shadows began to take on strange twisted shapes, Ichigo couldn't help feeling that anyone with any sense would have picked this as the place for the ambush rather than the pathway up. Here, he'd hardly be able to fight at all.

Twenty yards and at least one junction further down the tunnel, a yellowy glow appeared up ahead and some of the odd sounds resolved themselves into actual voices. About the same distance again and suddenly Ichigo emerged at the top of steep steps leading down into a much larger space. A natural cave, he realised, looking around. It wasn't huge, no bigger than the great hall at the Kuchiki manor, though the ceiling was twice as high. The temperature was warm rather than hot, and the air was fairly fresh, though it had an odd dry metallic smell to it. And despite being deep underground, there was plenty of light. It came from some kind of yellow kidō dotted all across the walls, where niches containing sleeping mats and bundles of what were probably personal possessions had been cut into the smoothed rock. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat redirected Ichigo's attention to the people below. Tōsen's white haori immediately caught his eye, but it wasn't the captain who held his attention, it was the kids he was inspecting. There had to be at least two hundred of them, lined up in neat rows with their hands at their sides and their chins up. And sure, their clothing was ragged and patched, but no worse than most of the residents in Rukongai, and from this distance they appeared to be fit and well-fed. 

Compared to the horrors Ichigo had been expecting, this was almost pleasant.

An elderly man with a short white beard, dressed in civilian clothing, stepped forward when Ichigo reached the bottom of the steps. He bowed deeply and said, "Futoshima Eiji, supervisor of Ginzan mine and feeding station. I offer my most humble apologies for any inconvenience you may have suffered at the hands of our most unruly wardens, Shiba-taichō-sama. I daresay such a thing would never have been permitted to happen during the long and prosperous years of your esteemed family's tenure of this land."

It took a moment for Ichigo to sort out what the old man had said since his words were even more convoluted and archaic than Byakuya's, but he got there eventually. "This used to be a Shiba mine?" he asked, looking around with even more interest. He'd known the clan used to own a lot of property but not that it had included sites like this. Though if he thought about it, the place Uryū and Ryūken had stayed in to start with had been a Shiba mine too. Maybe mining was a Shiba thing?

"Indeed it was, your Lordship," Futoshima was saying. "Ginzan Mine and smelting works, the veritable star of the Shiba holdings, gifting the clan with its riches so they may better serve the will of the Soul King. I remember Shiba Ichirō-sama himself coming here to visit us, with his beautiful wife and sons." 

How the hell old was this guy? Ichigo had thought Isshin's father was called Itto. Was this a generation earlier he was talking about or some branch part of the family Ichigo had never heard of.

But the old man hadn't finished yet. "Of course this was all a great many years ago now. These days, we serve the noble Suehisa, and are very grateful to be a part of their fine and powerful clan, but we do our best to uphold the old traditions. Food, rest and hard work, all applied in equal measure, as is the Shiba way." A liver-spotted hand gestured gracefully to the rows of waiting kids. "I'm sure there's not a boy here who will not be grateful to serve under you, Shiba-taichō, even if it is with the 6th and not the 3rd."

Ichigo's heart plummeted at the reminder of his mission. According to Hisana, they needed twenty seven recruits to meet their compulsory quota. And when that twenty seven got back to Seireitei, Ichigo wouldn't even have a place for them to sleep, let alone an asauchi or real work, because the 6th was so overstretched it wasn't even a little bit funny any more. 

These kids were expecting a true Shiba, one of the four True First with all the pomp and circumstance that went along with it. What they'd be getting was the cheap reboot, specially designed to screw them up good and proper. But Ichigo couldn't not recruit them. He wasn't sure exactly what the penalty would be if he didn't manage to magic up the right number of new shinigami, but knowing the Gotei, it would be bad. Or expensive. And Ichigo couldn't afford either one of those.

Nodding to Futoshima, he said, "I'll do my best to live up to your memories, ojii-san," and then stepped past him to go take a look at what was on offer.

It felt oddly familiar walking the ranks. Back when he'd been third seat, organising inspections and accompanying Byakuya through them had been one of his jobs. Now, as captain, he made sure to always touch base with teams before they went on assignment, and this type of set-up was a good way of doing that. It gave him a chance to have a couple of words with people he'd never see otherwise.

Even the looming bulk of Hashigami behind him felt right, though it'd normally be Chad filling that role these days. Back before, it'd been Renji, and that thought sent a pang of worry through his gut for his lovers. Karin should be back from seeing Ryūken by the time Ichigo got home. With luck she'd have good news about the apartment, though there was no way Ichigo would be able to pass it on himself. He'd have to send Rukia out again. She was faster than Chad and less easily missed, especially when Hisana wasn't as strict as she might be about wearing her lieutenant's badge. For all Renji's 'creeped out' vibe he claimed to get off the two almost identical sisters, having them in same squad was proving pretty damned useful.

But he couldn't give that order until he was done here. Dragging his attention back to the task in hand, Ichigo tried to take more interest in the kids. It was difficult. Back in Seireitei, when he wasn't at the 6th, he tried not to think of the shinigami that he met as people. It was too easy to see Rikichi in every face. Or Hanatarō, or any number of other innocents who ended up dying or being maimed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the same thing was happening now.

Closer to, the kids weren't in as good a shape as Ichigo had thought. They looked well-fed, but they didn't look healthy. Their skin was too pale and dark rings around their eyes told of too little sleep. One boy, as Ichigo walked past, wobbled and almost fell over.

"Hey, you okay?" Ichigo asked, putting a hand out to stop the kid falling. Though, honestly, kid was hardly the term for him. One of the tallest there, he was only a couple of inches shorter than Ichigo and had the beginnings of a decent moustache on his upper lip.

"Sorry, sir, I never meant to get muck on ya." 

A hand flailed at Ichigo's front and he looked down to see dirty smears across his white haori. He huffed in amusement. "It's had a lot worse on it than that, I promise you," he said, and then, since he was there and talking already, asked, "What's your name?"

"Shige." Dark hair flopped down over dull eyes. The boy's reiatsu was a low buzz that scraped across Ichigo's nerves, but the fact that he could even feel that much suggested it might be worth recruiting this one.

"Do you want to join the Gotei 13?"

Ichigo wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, maybe a little excitement, or being told to fuck off if it wasn't something the kid fancied, but a single shoulder shrug and a disinterested grunt hadn't figured. Then again, if the wrong person, like say a teacher, had asked Ichigo if he wanted ten million yen a couple of years ago, he might have answered the same way. It was all about saving face, and anyone who'd kept some attitude working in a place like this probably had the guts to become a shinigami.

Ichigo was about to tell the kid to go get his stuff when Hashigami said quietly, "This one's no good, sir. You're better off looking at the smaller ones."

That made no sense. "Why?"

Rather than answer, Hashigami reached past Ichigo, grabbed Shige's chin and pried his lower lip down. Black teeth and gums met Ichigo's shocked gaze. "Poison," Hashigami explained, letting the kid go. "He's been working the mine for too long. It's everywhere. In the food, the water. Even the air." 

Shige staggered back a pace or two, and swiped at his face with uncoordinated hands. He was wobbly on his feet too. Ichigo's gut churned and he spun on his heel, ready to drive his fist right through Futoshima's smart lying face. Food, rest and hard work! What the hell point was any of that when these kids were dying just from being in this place!

He'd taken several paces before he stopped short because, what good would lashing out do, really. Sure it'd make Ichigo feel better for all of about thirty seconds, and then he'd have to deal with the fallout from punching an old man in the face and hurting one of the Suehisa's retainers. 

Forcing himself to think things through in a way that would have made Byakuya proud, Ichigo took another run at the problem. The mine was poisoning the kids. The mine belonged to the Suehisa clan. Now, why did that name ring a bell? Wishing he had Hisana with him because she was shit hot on details like this, Ichigo said, "Hashigami, who the hell are the Suehisa?"

There was a shuffling of feet from behind him and then, "Third tier nobles, as far as I know, sir. We had one sign on with us after the trouble at the 13th."

That might be true, but it wasn't why Ichigo knew the name. It'd have to wait until he could asked Hisana, but in the meantime, "I want you to look this lot over, find the sickest ones and sign them up with us."

"Sir?" Even the quiet tone of Hashigami's voice couldn't conceal his shock.

"You heard me. I'm not leaving them down here to die. I'll work out what I'm doing with them when we get them back to the 6th. That's an order, damn it."

"I could take them for you."

For a second Ichigo thought he was hearing things. He turned, every nerve still singing from frustration at not being able to tear this place down. And there was Tōsen, calmly walking towards him. 

Ichigo glared at the other captain. "What d'you mean?"

Tōsen made an open-handed gesture. "I could take your quota for this quarter. Obviously you would have to officially recruit them for the 6th, but inter-divisional transfers are possible, as you well know."

That was actually a really good point. But what would someone like Tōsen do with kids so sick they could hardly stand. Wasn't he short on bodies?

According to Karin, Tosen had really come through after Ukitake flipped his lid. He rallied the shell-shocked remains of the 13th and held off an attack by Kurotsuchi's vultures. Ichigo didn't particularly like the man personally, since he was way too cosy with Hirako, but what would he be like as a Captain?

"You're not gonna turn them into hollows, are you?" Like Hisagi, Ichigo wanted to add. Though he didn't get the chance. 

Tosen's reiatsu flared briefly. "I would _never_ inflict such a grievous wound on another," he said, the controlled lash of anger in his voice making the hairs on Ichigo's neck stand on end. "There is no justice to such a thing."

And he meant it. There was absolutely no doubt about that in Ichigo's mind. But how could someone who handled Hisagi the way he did, and served under Hirako the way he had, hold such a view? It made no sense to Ichigo.

Until Tōsen unclipped his visor and lowered it from his face, revealing white sightless eyes. Because, and how the hell had Ichigo forgotten this fact, Tōsen was blind. 

This was the same guy who'd witnessed Aizen's slaughter of the Kyōraku family, who'd testified against him and, with the help of Byakuya's uncle, had been pivotal in sending him to jail. The truth was obvious when you took all the facts into account. Tōsen wouldn't let another kid suffer, because he'd come so close to suffering himself.

"We have to recruit twenty-seven," Ichigo said, "But I can delay signing up some of the others if you want all forty."

Tōsen inclined his head. "Alongside mine, that will be eighty souls we can save," he said. "I thank you for that. Though I would ask a small boon in exchange."

There was always a hitch. "What?" Ichigo asked.

With a dip of his head, Tōsen slipped the mask back over his face. "I've taken quarters just north of the 13th. A house with purple paint on the shutters. Come to me tomorrow night, alone." 

Alone? Ichigo opened his mouth and closed it again, wondering how the hell to answer that, before settling on, "This isn't some kind of sex thing, is it, 'cause I'm kind of seeing someone."

Tōsen's lips twitched up into a smile, and Ichigo got the impression he was being laughed at, though not maliciously. "Not sex, no. I simply believe that, after our mutual experiences today, we have much to discuss."

"Oh, that's all right then," Ichigo replied with a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I can do that." Once he'd managed to escape Hisana's clutches. And Chad's. And possibly Karin's if she was home. He really hoped she was. Some good news would be nice right now.

"In the meantime, do you wish to select your own recruits, or should I do it for you?" Tōsen enquired.

Ichigo blinked at him before getting his head back in the game. "Let's do it together. That way, we won't double up."

*

It was gone midnight by the time Ichigo got back. After seeing Karin's name in the book while he was signing in, he sent Hashigami off duty and headed for the house in the hopes of catching her still awake. She was, though dressed in her night clothes and sitting at the kotatsu reading. A tray of tea and cakes sat in front of her.

She looked up when Ichigo came in, her eyes bright in the lamplight. "How'd it go?"

"Oh, you know, death and disaster, the usual," he said as he joined her. The warmth of the fire went some way towards defrosting his toes. "You?"

"Better than yours, by the sound of it." She didn't enquire further, for which Ichigo was grateful. They could talk business tomorrow in the office. For now there was something else he needed to know. Thankfully, Karin didn't keep him waiting. "Ji-chan said yes, just in case you were wondering. He sent a letter with all the details."

Ichigo felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. "That's…" He couldn't quite put what he felt into words, so he tried, "awesome. Seriously, I was worried he might say no."

Karin shrugged. "I think he might have, if Uryū hadn't reminded him that Renji was with you when you broke him and Rikichi out of the 12th. Rikichi says 'hi', by the way. Almost all his skin has grown back now."

"That's great." Ichigo poked at the sweets, hoping to find something more to his taste but knowing he wouldn't. They were all too sweet and there was never any chocolate. "What about Uryū?"

"That's a bit more complicated." Before she could explain however, a scratch came on the door. "Come in," Karin called, before adding more quietly to Ichigo, "I told Rami to save you some dinner."

Even though they'd stopped at the second district guard post for taiyaki and tea, Ichigo wasn't going to say no. Especially not when Rami placed a large bowl of rich dark stew full of juicy looking noodles in front of him. Ichigo leaned forward and took a sniff. "Is this Yuzu again?" he asked, reaching for his chopsticks.

"It is, my lord," replied Rami with a duck of her head. "I had no idea the young mistress had such skills in the kitchen."

Was that meant as a good thing or a bad one? Ichigo found Koji's daughter very difficult to read at the best of times, and he was pretty sure she was mad with him at the moment. She'd been overjoyed to see the back of Shin as house steward, but less impressed to be dumped with Koniwa as a replacement. The men, on the other hand, were more than grateful for their change of jobs. Even Koniwa, who'd confided to Ichigo that one of his great joys as a child had been following their steward around as he fulfilled his duties. Considering how pedantic and detail oriented the man was, Ichigo guessed that made sense.

"She's taken over the division kitchens as well," Karin said, helping herself to a pale cream manju off the plate of sweets and breaking it in half. The scent of oranges filled the air. "Some of the guys were actually smiling when they came out of the mess today."

"I don't blame them," Ichigo replied round a mouthful of noodles and seriously, no one cooked like his baby sister. The mix of flavours was perfect. 

Having refreshed the teapot, Rami left them to it and for a moment there was silence as Ichigo stuffed his face hungrily. Eventually though he slowed down enough to say, "What was that about Uryū?"

Karin, who'd gone back to her book, glanced up with a frown before saying, "Oh, right, yeah. He needs more of that cream. You know the stuff you gave them when he was first sick? It's the only thing that helps when the cross freaks out and tries to eat him."

They'd told her about the Quincy cross that Kurotsuchi had embedded in Uryū's chest? That was a bit of a surprise, though perhaps not if they were trying to put over how urgently Uryū needed the cream. But getting more of it was going to be a problem. Although Ichigo had taken it from Byakuya's office, it had originally come from Isshin, and Ichigo had no idea how to replace it. "Shit," he said, putting down his chopsticks and wiping his mouth. 

Karin gave him a raised eyebrow, so he explained. 

"Well, if dad bought it, then someone out there has to be making it," she pointed out once he'd finished. "They gave me the empty jar, so maybe you can show it around at medicine shops or something. See if anyone's got any ideas."

Medicine shops. Like Kaito's granny's place. Now there was a thought. Ichigo couldn't go himself, he wasn't that dumb, but Shin could. And knowing Shin, that would be all he needed to get an in with the family.

Feeling much better, Ichigo picked up his chopsticks again. "So, did you end up taking Yuzu with you?" 

Karin snorted in amusement. "On the day she got let loose in the kitchens? That wasn't gonna happen. Plus…" Her words died away and she looked uncomfortable.

"What is it?" Ichigo asked.

"I just think we ought to keep it to ourselves, until you manage to make ji-chan and Uryū legal," she said. "I mean, I know it sounds off with them being family and everything, but if something happened, I don't want Yuzu involved. And if she doesn't know anything, then no one can accuse her of breaking the law helping us hide them."

That was a damned good point, and one Ichigo wasn't going to argue with. Helping himself to another mouthful of tender vegetables and shrimp, he said, "Fine. But you're taking responsibility when she finds out. No way am I taking the fall for this."

*

The trouble with medical experts was, they weren't necessarily very knowledgeable about the cheapest places to buy food. Yuzu tapped the base of her writing brush against her lip and stared down her list of potential contacts. Considering she'd been working on it for over an hour, it was pitifully short, and pretty much came down to her two teachers; Unohana-taichō and Tsukishima-sensei; neither of whom, as far as Yuzu knew, went food shopping on a regular basis.

There had to be someone else, someone she was forgetting, who could give her the information she needed. Or, failing that, at least give her somewhere to start. For now, she was working her way through the Shiba household stores to supplement the ones in the division kitchens, but that couldn't last. There were simply too many mouths to feed at the 6th for that to be sustainable. What she needed was a food expert. Or, more to the point maybe, a shopping expert.

As she wracked her brain for anyone she could ask, a quiet voice called from beyond the door, "Your guest has arrived, Yuzu-sama." 

Yuzu grimaced and slid her list aside, hiding it beneath a pile of medical scrolls. She'd get back to it later. First she had to deal with this. "Thank you, Koniwa," she called, and braced herself for an unpleasant hour or so.

The man who swept through the study door was not far off Ichigo's height, but there all similarities to her brother ended. Whereas Ichigo was lean, Fugawa Tatsuya erred towards the chubby end of well-built, his chin distinctly doubled above a deep green and gold haori. That was set-off nicely by the dark orange and cream kosode layered beneath, but the overall effect was ruined by an puce flowered obi that would have looked more at home on a young girl's kimono. The colour kind of matched his face though, which was flushed with annoyance. Yuzu almost felt bad that she was just about to make his day even worse.

With an encouraging smile, she gestured to a cushion beside one of a pair of tall bookcases. The position of it had been calculated to the last inch, not far enough away from the desk to be actually rude, but not near enough that there was any sense of intimacy.

"Please, sit down, Fugawa-san," she said, and had the absolute joy of seeing the man almost fall over his own hakama at her choice of honorific. She had been going to use dono, after all Fugawa was related to the Kuchiki, and she'd intended to try and handle the meeting informally, but when she'd suggested it, Hisana had looked horrified. "But you're True First," she'd said, "Main family. He's… he's not even branch. He's not even Kuchiki! His father married in! And anyway, if you try acting friendly, he'll just think you're stupid. You won't get anywhere if you do that." 

Remembering her only other encounter with the man, at the 4th when his wife had been brought in with an infection after childbirth, Yuzu had quickly agreed. The way he'd strutted around and expected everyone to bow and scrape said he had an inflated opinion of his own importance and no way did she want to encourage that.

Having recovered his equilibrium, Fugawa sat in an easy seiza, his hands resting on his knees and looked down his nose at her. "Young lady, I really don't think-" he began pompously.

Yuzu simply spoke over him, using the opening gambit she and Hisana had thrashed out between them. "I must offer my condolences for your carrot fields. The Kuchiki family must be feeling the lack quite profoundly."

Brought up short by the remark, Fugawa stared at her in slack-mouthed surprise for a second before managing a stuttered, "Ca-carrot fields?"

"Yes," Yuzu replied, still smiling oh so very slightly. Not too much, Hisana had told her. Nothing vulgar. Just enough to appear pleasant and no more. "They must have been stricken by some terrible disaster since the divison's head cook has informed me he's not had any carrots delivered for several months."

"Ah, I see, yes, well-"

"And since our agreement with you asserts that the 6th will receive a portion of that due to the Kuchiki manor for the use of the household, I assume they are also having to go without."

A gold fish impression was followed by a hesitant, "Yes?"

"And also pears." Yuzu made a show of checking the papers in front of her. "Not to mention soy beans, rice flour, cinnamon and for some reason lye water." She frowned as though confused by that one. "Which I always believed lasted pretty much forever if you kept it sealed properly." Glancing up, she suggested, "But perhaps there was an accident. Many jars smashed. Servants badly burned, that sort of thing."

If Fugawa's face got any redder, he was going to pop a vein. "Now see here-" he began.

Yuzu folded her hands on the table. "I'll tell you what we'll do," she said. "You deliver everything the 6th is owed from the past six months, plus extra supplies of salt pickles and fish, and I won't tell the Kuchiki that you've been trying to diddle the family division out of food."

He sneered at her. "You can try," he said. "But there's no one left who'll care. The new heir's nothing but a child and the rest are all women." His gaze slid pointedly down to her chest. "No offence intended."

Oh offence totally taken, Yuzu thought, thinking furiously. If the Kuchiki weren't a threat, what could she use?

"The days are long gone, young lady, when the Kuchiki could make me jump with a mere word. And it all started with your traitor of a father. He should never have been allowed near Kuchiki-sama, corrupting him with his gaki-loving ways. And what does the boy do as soon as he comes into his inheritance? Go and find another one, that's what, and make the creature his whore." Flecks of foam formed at the corners of Fugawa's mouth. And wow, this was so not what Yuzu had been expecting. But what had set it off? It couldn't just be her comment about the unfilled orders, though that was obviously a catalyst.

Fugawa hadn't finished. "Abomination! Fraternisation with the foulest of beasts! No wonder it drove him to madness. His brain undoubtedly curdled from the inside. By the end he could hardly have been responsible for his actions." His voice fell to a snarl. "To abdicate his position as clan-head. Unthinkable for anyone in their right mind. The creature bewitched him, I tell you, hypnotised him into killing them. The son of Sōjun-sama would never have raised a hand to Central 46, not if his very life depended upon it. Honour and pride in the Kuchiki name would have prevented it."

And really Yuzu couldn't argue, with the honour and pride bit, anyway. She'd been completely shocked when Byakuya-sama had been accused of murdering all those people. He'd seemed like a really nice man the one and only time she'd met him, that morning at the challenge arena at breakfast. Not very chatty, but then not everyone was. Nii-chan was terrible in company. Most of the time he stood in the corner and glared at people.

The gaki whore part was confusing though. Was Fugawa talking about Hisana or did he mean someone else? The only other person Yuzu knew of who'd been close to Byakuya-sama and come from outside the walls was Renji-san, and he hadn't seemed much like a lady of the night to her.

In a rustle of silk, Fugawa rose to his feet, puffing himself up and sliding his hands into his sleeves like some kind of self-important bureaucrat. "And now that brother of yours is preventing the reconstitution of the government. Over ten weeks we've been without. It's costing me a fortune, keeping my profile high enough to get appointed. The number of bribes, the favours accruing. Terrible. Another month of this and it'll bankrupt-" 

Fugawa's mouth snapped shut as if he suddenly realised he'd gone too far. He turned to look at her, cocking his head like you would when speaking to a child or an animal. "But I'm sure that's nothing you need to know, my dear. Or your brother."

But it was enough to get Yuzu what she wanted. "I won't tell him," she said, "So long as the food arrives at the kitchens within the next two days."

For a second she thought Fugawa was going to balk, but eventually he just snorted and tossed his head. "It will be as you say," he said, "But that will be the last of them. This business arrangement is no longer acceptable. You should consider it terminated forthwith."

If he expected her to beg, he was going to be sadly mistaken. Yuzu gathered up her papers and stood up too. "I agree," she said. "The Kuchiki storehouses are no longer good enough to be considered a reliable source of food for a Gotei 13 division. In the future, I would suggest lowering your sights to something more fitting, like corner shops."

Fugawa inflated like a puffer fish, his whole face turning almost purple with rage. But before he could explode, the study door opened and Take appeared, bowing deeply, her hand resting on the hilt of her zanpakutō.

"Ah, excellent timing, Take-san" Yuzu said, even though her bodyguard had been primed to enter as soon as she stood up. "Fugawa-san was just about to leave. Please escort him to the gate."

With a disgusted, "Bah!" presumably at being given the same honorific as an unseated shinigami, Fugawa stormed out of the room and off down the corridor, Take hot on his heels.

As he left, Yuzu sank back into her seat, heart now thundering in her chest and hands shaking. It was a good thing she'd spent the last year learning from Unohana-taichō how to face down irate patients, or Fugawa would have walked right over her. What a revoltingly obnoxious man.

A quiet knock on the door made her glance up. It was Koniwa and he was carrying a tray of tea. "Oh my goodness, you are a lifesaver," Yuzu gushed, waving him in and clearing a space on the desk.

He put the tray down and quickly began laying out cup and teapot along with a small selection of sweets similar to the ones Yuzu had made yesterday. Rami must have copied her technique, or got someone else to make them for her. Perhaps Tamiko, who seemed to do most of the cooking. 

As Koniwa worked, Yuzu couldn't help noticing how much weight he'd lost. His clothes hung on him now, loose across his shoulders and his wrists looked thin where they protruded from his sleeves. Back when he'd tried to kill himself, Yuzu had been pressing her hands against a well-muscled torso to keep the blade from moving too much. Now, there wouldn't be much to hold it in place at all.

Was it all medical, she wondered? The injury had been to his gut, so that would make sense, but she thought it might be more than that. While he'd been in the infirmary, he'd been almost abnormally quiet. Withdrawn really. Even after the wound was mostly healed, he'd spent most of his days lying on his bed staring at the wall. 

Guilt? Possibly. Yuzu had heard Ichigo forgive him, but she suspected it would take more than that for Koniwa to forgive himself. Maybe serving the family would go some way towards it.

As he finished up and sat back on his heels, Yuzu said, "How are you settling in? Is the new job going to suit you?" It had definitely been less tense now Shin wasn't always creeping around looking overwhelmed. Rami had almost cracked a smile while Yuzu had been in the kitchen yesterday.

"I think it will suit me very well, Yuzu-sama," Koniwa replied dipping a shallow seated bow but holding it for a long second before coming up to continue, "As I was telling Shiba-taichō- " He paused and bowed again. "I'm sorry, Shiba- _sama_ , one of my favourite pastimes as a boy was helping our family steward as he carried out his daily duties. Fulfilling the same function in this household will be a pleasure."

"But you're not a shinigami any more. Doesn't that bother you?" Counselling had never been part of her training at the 4th, but even without it Yuzu knew that sometimes talking about things helped.

A cloud of sadness passed over Koniwa's face. "After what I did, it would have been impossible for me to continue serving at the 6th. I'm grateful that Shiba-sama allowed me to continue to serve him at all." Which sounded like a well-rehearsed answer to Yuzu, but she wasn't going to push. Koniwa obviously didn't want to talk about it, not to her. Or at least, not right now.

"Well, I for one am very glad to have you," she said, taking a bite out of the matcha cake and squeaking happily at the taste. 

Koniwa gave her an inquisitive look. She grinned back, careful to cover her mouth. "It's got strawberry mousse filling. The flavours work really great together." It reminded her of the cakes she used to buy from the local baker in Karakura. But she couldn't say that to Koniwa. He wasn't on her list of people it was okay to tell. 

"That would be Tamiko, my lady. She was most taken by some of your suggestions. I daresay they came from your mother's side of the family. Quincy cooking must be quite different to anything a shinigami might learn."

Not so much, Yuzu thought. It's more that we had access to so many more ingredients in the living world. 

"Perhaps she was even able to buy things that most of us in Seireitei wouldn't have heard of," Koniwa continued. "Strange fruits and vegetables. Sweets and cans of drink. Like… Bepsi Cola?"

Okay, Yuzu knew that they didn't sell coke in Seireitei, so what was Koniwa trying to tell her? Whatever it was, she didn't think he was doing it to be threatening. His expression was completely open and not at all sneaky. If only she could sense reiatsu, maybe she'd be able to tell. 

A little tinge of annoyance jabbed at her. She didn't often feel the lack, since having reiatsu wasn't something she'd ever experienced, but having seen both Unohana-taichō and Takata-sensei use it to judge a patient's state of mind, Yuzu knew how useful it could be at times. 

But since she didn't have it, her best recourse was honesty. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're getting at. If you're trying to tell me something, you'd be better off just saying it. I won't be mad, I promise."

Koniwa looked at her, and then rather pointedly over his shoulder at the door. "Not mad, but perhaps exposed if the wrong ears are listening."

He did mean what she thought he did. "If you're talking about me having been dead once, it's okay. Everyone in the house already knows."

"They do?" He looked so startled at the revelation that Yuzu laughed out loud. "I'm sorry. Someone should have mentioned it to you. But anyway, there's no need to worry if you want to bring it up here. It's only outside we need to be careful." 

Wide-eyed, Koniwa continued to stare at her, so Yuzu continued, "How come you know? You're not on the list."

"There's a list?" 

"It's a short one," Yuzu assured him, "And for some reason you're not on it. How did you find out?"

Koniwa clutched his hands together on his lap. His head was bowed. "I was there the night you were killed," he said. "I was the one who carried your body back upstairs to bed. Word was sent out afterwards that they were all gigai and your father had only recently taken his family to the living world, however the house I saw that night was obviously well cared for and lived in."

Yuzu swallowed hard, memories rushing back to her. Dad yelling and the thunder of footsteps on the stairs. The crash as the bedroom door flew open. Dark figures streaming inside. Karin screaming at her to run, and then nothing. She must have fainted with all the reiatsu flying around, she supposed. She hadn't even known she was dead until she'd woken up at the 13th and Karin had told her. Even then she hadn't really believed it until the first proper fight at the challenge arena. The sight of Byakuya-sama being carried, bleeding, from the field had made her realise that what she was experiencing was deadly real.

But that was a long time ago now. She'd moved on since then. Tsukishima-sensei had shown her the way. "I'm sure you were only following orders," she said. 

"I was," Koniwa replied, before continuing more quietly, "Though there are times when I wonder if that is really an excuse."

It's not amongst humans, not anymore, Yuzu wanted to say. But Seireitei wasn't like Japan. Here, people who didn't follow orders got killed. "I don't think you should think about it too much," she said kindly. "Just focus on sorting out all the messes Shin left behind, and let other people worry about politics and orders."

Mouth flat, Koniwa gave her a firm nod. "You're right. And Shin's messes are more than enough to keep me busy. You should see the accounts. It's a disaster. And he didn't have a clue how to go about setting up proper suppliers for anything. He's been using the shops, for a household this size. I'm going to have to start completely from scratch."

Yuzu almost choked on her second bite of cake. "Suppliers?" she gasped joyfully. "You've got contacts with wholesalers?"


	7. Dedicated Follower of Passion

Bruise purple sky arched from horizon to horizon. Naked and barefoot, Byakuya stepped carefully through piles of bleached bones, searching the dead ground for… he didn't know what precisely, but something to give this aimless wandering through his inner world some kind of purpose. There was nothing, of course, just yellowing grass well-trampled into mud just like he would find everywhere else. Unchanging, no matter the time he spent here or the distance he travelled. It was the same, always the same. It would be so easy to lose himself entirely, to drift until his body failed, adding one more pile to this sea of bones.

So easy. So peaceful. There was no one to miss him. No one to care anymore. No one to hold him.

Except Renji.

A sudden swell of panic shot through Byakuya. He surged to his feet, frantic gaze seeking the horizon for that one point of difference in this world. And found it, rising above the bones like the prow of a ship, tall and proud. The battle tent; the manifestation of Senbonzakura's woundless zone, and the only place here that Byakuya could consider himself entirely safe. 

Or had been, when there was spirit enough to move the dead from their endless rest. Perhaps it wasn't needed so desperately any longer. Perhaps he could simply walk where he willed without worry, exploring this endless inner landscape until he came to the end of himself.

A shrill alien trilling sound jerked him back into the real world. The television burbled in the background, Renji's constant companion these past few days, since the last time Byakuya had lost control and tried to steal his zanpakutō. Since then they had exchanged perhaps twenty words, and those had been no more than the simple everyday courtesies needed to share space with another being. 

Their bedding too had developed the habits of strangers. Instead of a single futon, they slept separately with the table between them. A wall of sorts, Byakuya supposed. 

Not that he blamed Renji for keeping him at arm's length. After what he had tried to do, Renji was surely within his rights to protect himself. 

"Today?" Renji was saying, his voice a solid comfort against the harsh and demanding tones of the television's news reporter. "What time?" Pause. "Okay, yeah. At the store. Sure, and…" Another pause, this one uncomfortable. "Thanks for doing this. I owe you guys, big time."

Byakuya opened his eyes to Renji hanging up and tucking the phone in his front jeans pocket. When he felt Byakuya's eyes on him, he looked over and their gazes met. It hurt to see the echoes of fear in them, and the words, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you', hovered on Byakuya's tongue yet again. 

Except, what meaning could such an apology hold when Byakuya had no actual memory of what had happened, except that he had lost control somehow and done awful damage to the man he loved. And that the reiatsu chains and 'hooking' sensation Renji described were terrifyingly akin to the powers of his uncle's zanpakutō. 

Why those powers should reside within him after Senbonzakura had fled, Byakuya didn't know, but it scared him. To think that he could hurt Renji so badly and not be aware of it. What if he should one day wake from another of these episodes and discover Zabimaru in his own hand and Renji emptied out at his feet? No, he would rather die than allow that to happen. Renji's recourse to this fake body as a form of imprisonment was a boon he should be grateful for.

The silence between them grew until eventually Renji blinked and looked away. "That was Mizuiro, a friend of Ichigo's," he said, pushing himself up from the table and rising to his feet, all power and animal grace. "They might have got something for us. A job, somewhere to live."

Somewhere that wasn't this place, with its blank walls and odd pressure that even inside the gigai made Byakuya feel like he was continually riding the cusp of a storm.

"Do you know where and what?"

Renji looked at him again, briefly, a flickering gaze that hardly seemed to see Byakuya at all. "Does it matter, so long as it's not here?"

That was a very salient point. Byakuya pushed himself upright, taking a moment to allow his legs to recover after so long sitting seiza. How many hours had it been anyway? The clock on the television news indicated it was past three o'clock, which meant he'd missed lunch again. Strange that he no longer felt hunger. Not for food. The only emptiness that moved him now was the hole Senbonzakura had left in his soul.

"We're meeting by the convenience store in half an hour," Renji was saying as he leaned over the table to pick up his sweater, the one with the strange white streaks on the sleeves and chest. He yanked it on over his head and flipped up the hood. Having his head covered that way made him look almost like his normal self, although the short hair was no longer the shock it used to be. Byakuya was almost starting to grow fond of it, especially the softness and how stroking it made Renji melt under his hands. 

"We, as in both of us," Renji added, an ill-concealed snarl to his voice. 

Byakuya was going too? It was such a surprise that for a moment all Byakuya could do was stand and stare at Renji. He could count the number of times he'd been out of this room since they arrived on the fingers of one hand. Or at least, he thought he could. The days blurred together in his mind, a colourless timescape punctuated only by vivid moments of terror.

"You'll need your jacket." This time there was definite annoyance in Renji's tone. Trying to co-operate, Byakuya turned to look for his outdoor wear, only to have it thrust at his chest by a glowering Renji. "Come on, we need to get going."

Once they got past the first floor, the corridors outside the safe room were busy. Byakuya did his best to keep up with Renji as he wove through crowds that seemed to part in front of him like magic. The looks he garnered were all of fear and intimidation, though Renji appeared not to notice them. He simply kept moving, his shoulders lowered and his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans.

Unfortunately Byakuya was given no such regard and consequently was left navigating the wake of Renji's passing like a duckling behind a particularly determined mother duck. After one especially busy intersection where Byakuya was caught the wrong side of a trolley travelling flat out and surrounded by white clad medics, he lost sight of Renji completely and had to rely on shaky memories to take him to the main doors. 

As he came round the final corner, he literally ran into Renji who was coming back the other way. Byakuya bounced off him, and the next moment found his shoulder caught in a vice-like grip. "Where the hell did you go?" Renji growled in his ear and then gave Byakuya a little shove so he was walking ahead. As they moved, his grasp shifted from shoulder to elbow so Byakuya was being escorted towards the exit as though he'd been arrested.

Renji only let go when the security guard outside the hospital gave them a strange look and took a step towards them. Not knowing what else to do, Byakuya gave the man a polite nod. It seemed to work since he gave Renji one more suspicious look and then returned to his post. 

"We need to keep a low profile," Renji said once they were clear. The unimpressed growl in his voice suggested Byakuya had got something wrong again, though he wasn't sure exactly what. This human world was so different and moved so fast that he sometimes felt like his brain was molasses.

Their route to the meeting place took them over a high fence which took Byakuya two attempts to climb. The gigai might be an excellent mimic of his body's movements but it wasn't completely perfect and being stuck inside the safe room for the past two days, he'd not had the chance to practice anything strenuous.

When he almost fell down the other side, having misjudged the inherent strength of his grip with no reiatsu to call on, Renji actually looked concerned. "You okay?" he asked, catching Byakuya out of the stumble with a grab to the back of his jacket. As he pivoted to regain his balance, Byakuya's hand landed flat against Renji's chest, and for a second they just stood there beside the railway-tracks with their arms around each other, staring into each other's eyes. 

It was the closest they'd been in days and all Byakuya wanted was to stay there, safe against the warm solidity of Renji's body, feeling that strong heart beating beneath his palm. He wanted to say, 'Hold me, you're my only anchor. Without you, I'm scared I'm going to drift away', but this was neither the time nor place for such a conversation. If he could bring himself to speak of it at all. To do so would be to confess the entirety of it; Aizen, Muramasa, Senbonzakura.

Pain lanced through Byakuya's chest and he pushed Renji away, gasping as agony doubled him up. It was the phantom pain of Shinsō piercing his heart, but normally he never got it out here. This was something that came only in his inner world.

"Taichō," Renji was saying, his touch gentle, worried and comforting on Byakuya's shoulder. But the title wrapped down around Byakuya like a stifling mantle, suffocating him in responsibilities he couldn't hope to fulfil, not anymore. Not with Senbonzakura gone and his soul bleeding from this never ending wound. 

Despair drove fists to lash out and guided his tongue into viciousness. "Take your gaki hands off me!" he roared, coming up swinging. He made contact with something that made Renji grunt and Byakuya went after him like a crazed animal, shoving and punching, feeling Renji stumble in the face of the onslaught. And along with the violence, out poured the words. "Stop calling me your captain! I am not your captain! Don't you understand! That's all gone, all dead!" 

The slap took him by surprise. He staggered back, snagged a heel and landed on his backside, a dull stinging ache blooming across his cheek.

Renji was glaring down at him, breathing through his nose like he was fighting to keep control. He was rumpled, sweater pulled out of shape at the neck, the bright yellow T-shirt showing beneath. A deep red mark marred his jaw. 

When Byakuya didn't move, Renji yanked his sweater straight and snarled, "Fine. I was only trying to be nice, but you know what, fuck it! And fuck you! I'll see you at the store, when you've decided to be someone who's not a total dick." He strode away and the only thing Byakuya could think as he watched Renji clamber up the other side of the embankment was that Ichigo's language was rubbing off on him. 

For some reason, the idea struck Byakuya as funny and a sharp bark of laughter escaped, quickly smothered by the back of his hand pressed against his mouth. But the laughter wouldn't stop, huge gouts of it rushed up his throat, making him choke as he tried to swallow it back down. And then it wasn't laughter any longer, but sobs. He was crying, out here in public, where anyone could see if they just looked down the embankment, and there wasn't anything Byakuya could do to stop it.

Pressing fist between teeth in an effort not to make a noise, not to attract attention, the tears spilled down Byakuya's cheeks uncontrollably. His nose ran. His throat hurt so much that it made the whole of his head ache. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep, to close his eyes and let this incomprehensible world go on without him.

But life wasn't kind enough to allow him that. As he wept, a thunderous sound built in the distance until eventually the tracks beside him began to tremble. A train. And he was far too close to the tracks.

For a moment he was tempted. It wasn't like Renji really needed him anymore, he had Ichigo. They'd muddle through together and maybe with Byakuya gone Ichigo would find some way of getting Renji's crimes forgiven, let him return to Soul Society and get back to living his life.

He could do that. All he had to do was stay where he was, and it would all be over.

And what of Senbonzakura? Would his death free the zanpakutō's spirit from Aizen's clutches? Not necessarily. Kōga was long dead but Muramasa still remained. In part, true, thanks to Byakuya's own devisings, but also through the will of the spirit itself. Would Senbonzakura be the same? Would ending his own life not free Senbonzakura but simply condemn them to at eternity of servitude at Aizen's hands with no hope of rescue?

He dove for the bank, and not an instant too soon. The metal monster thundered past, the ground shaking from the sheer power of it. Heat and wind sucked away breath, noise blotted out everything else. For a few seconds the world narrowed to pure survival.

Byakuya came back to himself on hands and knees, the tracks several yards behind him, shivering and somehow still very much alive.

Humiliation washed over him. How far had he fallen, to be grovelling here in the filth. If his family could see him now- But no, they were family no longer, as he was Kuchiki no longer. He was simply Byakuya, as nameless as the children from Rukongai and, since he'd landed in a puddle, apparently just as dirty. 

He wiped the worst off his hands on the winter-weak grass, before looking around for something to clean them with properly. There was nothing to be had, just like there was nothing to wipe his nose with, so he rubbed his palms on the legs of his already dirty jeans and used his sleeve for the other before climbing to his feet. 

This state of affairs could not be allowed to continue. Finding some way to reclaim Senbonzakura had to made a priority. But first, he had to find Renji and apologise for hurting him. Again.

*

It was the same pink car as last time. As it pulled up, Renji pushed off the wall, and watched as both front and back opened and Mizuiro and Keigo piled out, slamming the doors closed behind them. He caught a glimpse of Chizuru as she pulled away, but either he missed her wave or she hadn't bothered. Probably the latter. Renji didn't think she liked him very much.

"Hey," Keigo said with an easy grin. "Better meet and greet than last time, huh? I see you've still got the stripes to show for it." 

He gestured at the front of his sweater and Renji glanced down at his own, at the remains of the white sticky residue from the tape. He swiped a self-conscious hand over it, knowing it made him look even more like an outcast than before. "I wasn't sure how to get it off. Soap and water didn't work."

"That's no good. Try some WD40," Keigo replied, managing to confuse Renji completely.

Mizuiro gave Keigo a narrow-eyed look before turning his attention to Renji. "Where's your friend," he asked, glaring at Renji suspiciously and, considering it had been them who'd come to Renji and offered to help this time, that seemed a bit off. But then again this was Mizuiro. Mister Taser, himself. 

Renji looked back towards the train tracks, and found an extreme lack of fucked-up not-your-captain-anymore type people heading in their direction. He huffed a sigh. Maybe he shouldn't have left Byakuya behind like that, but seriously, Renji was not a damned punching bag, and it was about time Byakuya got that into his head.

"I'll go get him," he said with a jerk of his thumb.

"If he's that way, we'll just pick him up on the way." Mizuiro, who was looking less thug and more salaryman today in his dark grey suit and tie, walked straight past Renji before stopping to look back. "The place we're headed is downtown, so we'll need to catch a train." 

What downtown meant exactly, Renji didn't know, but since he couldn't stop the two boys coming with him to find Byakuya, he didn't even try arguing with them. 

They met Byakuya coming over the top of the embankment. When he saw him, Mizuiro's steps slowed. "That's the shinigami captain?" he asked.

"Yeah, I know right. He looks kind of girlie for the guy who's supposed to be in charge." 

Keigo's comment was so similar to his own thoughts when he and Byakuya had first met that Renji was taken aback for a moment. But back then, Renji had been an inexperienced kid and the captain had looked younger than he did now, so seeing him that way had been understandable. Now, it was unthinkable. In Renji's eyes, Byakuya wasn't the slightest bit feminine. Beautiful, hell yes, in the same way a leopard was beautiful; all lethal grace and elegance; and in Renji's experience that was something that came with power and training, not some supposed attribute of sex.

Not that Byakuya looked very beautiful right now. His hair was everywhere, there were wet patches on his jeans and tear streaks on his cheeks, and he was limping. In short, he looked like someone had slapped him round the face and left him sitting in the mud. Renji's incipient guilt made a bid for freedom and he sped up some, just enough to make sure he reached Byakuya first.

"I'm so sorry," Byakuya greeted him, eyes downcast. "I should never have raised my hand or said those terrible things to you, please forgive me." Then, arms arrow-straight by his sides, he bowed, deep and long. And what the hell was Renji supposed to do with that.

Emotion rising in his own throat, he wanted to grab Byakuya and drag him up out of that show of deference, which no freaking Kuchiki or captain of the Gotei 13 should be making to a subordinate, then maybe give him a big hug, because, damn it, Byakuya looked so sad and lost. But there were the kids behind him, and this was in public. Plus, Byakuya had punched him in the face and yeah, okay, so not a hug, not when the bruise was still coming out on Renji's jaw. But maybe he could at least meet Byakuya halfway 

"It's okay," he said, reaching out for Byakuya's arm. "And stand up, for crap's sake. People are staring." They weren't. There was no one around to stare except Keigo and Mizuiro and Renji didn't care about them, but still, it was making Renji uncomfortable.

Byakuya made no attempt to shake him off and came up looking at Renji with a tremulous smile. The mark on his cheek was still slightly red, but it wasn't going to leave a bruise. Renji could only hope to be so lucky with his chin.

"You need to meet some folks," Renji said, turning them both around. "Mizuiro on the right, and Keigo. They're friends of Ichigo, and they're gonna find us work and some place to live. Guys, this is Byakuya." And crap hadn't that name fallen into common usage. Was it only last year that Renji had been given permission to use it at all? These days everyone did. They had to. Since Byakuya had decided he wasn't gonna answer to Kuchiki anymore, it was either that or hey you.

Keigo bounced forwards with a little wave. "Hi, glad to meet you at last. I kinda saw you on the plane, or the airport anyhow, but I guess you didn't see me. I don't stand out much and you people were kinda busy so… okay, shutting up now." He backed off, looking uncomfortable. Renji didn't blame him. Byakuya hadn't responded at all. 

He gave Byakuya a nudge and said quietly, "At least say hello to the guy."

Byakuya startled as if he'd been daydreaming, and said simply, "Keigo, yes," in a distracted kind of a way. Which wasn't exactly what Renji had had in mind.

When Mizuiro stepped forward, Renji was expecting something similar. "Kojima Mizuiro. I'm pleased to meet you, Byakuya-san" Mizuiro said, with a polite bow. "I hope we can work well together."

Whether it was the familiarity of the formal greeting or because Byakuya was already focusing, Renji didn't know, but it worked. This time Byakuya nodded and returned the sentiment with at least a modicum of manners. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Mizuiro."

Greetings exchanged, they continued walking towards the station in silence. Renji would've liked to ask where they were going and what work Mizuiro had found for them, but Byakuya's strange behaviour had made the atmosphere uncomfortable.

Thankfully the station wasn't far. Keigo bought tickets for all of them and helped Renji and Byakuya navigate the machines that guarded the platforms, and soon they were finding seats on a surprisingly empty train. Renji waited for Byakuya to sit down and then moved on another half carriage, not because he didn't want to sit with him, but because he needed to ask Mizuiro some questions and honestly he had no clue how Byakuya might react to the answers.

Mizuiro followed, leaving Keigo staring after them balefully before he turned back to sit next to Byakuya. The train pulled off with a lurch, making Renji grab for the side of the seat to keep from falling off. Mizuiro swung into the seat beside him. As he sat down, he said quietly, "I'm not being funny, but is your friend alright in the head?"

It sounded like a genuine enough question so Renji didn't punch him out on principle. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and stretched his legs until his feet almost reached the seats on the other side of the carriage. Only then did he let his gaze settle on Byakuya. He and Keigo were sitting on forward facing seats, Byakuya closest to the window. Beside him, Keigo was chattering away, leaning across to point at something going past outside and Byakuya seemed to be at least trying to pay attention. There was a little frown of concentration between his eyebrows and everything. But what did that mean, really. 

"Honestly, I dunno," Renji said finally, turning his attention to his feet and kicking one boot against the other. "Things have been shit since we left Soul Society and he's taken it pretty hard." It was more than that, Renji knew, but that was his and Byakuya's business, not some human's, however helpful he might be being right now. "I can handle him though. It's not a problem."

Outside, the world flashed by in hues of grey and pale blue. Renji contemplated his boots, trying to distract himself from Byakuya's deteriorating mental state, until he remembered the real reason for sitting where he had. Sitting up, he rubbed his thighs with his palms and said, "So, this job you've got lined up for us. What is it?"

Mizuiro flicked a glance at him. "It's not much, I'm afraid." He shifted, easing a black leather wallet from his back pocket, from which he extracted a pale pink card which he passed to Renji. It read: Kutsuzawa Akio, and gave her address as Sanchome in an area called Shinjūku. 

"She's a old friend of mine," Mizuiro explained. "Her father's a businessman. He's runs several clubs; Kiss Lite, Freezer, Xcution…?" When Renji didn't seem to be reacting to his name dropping, he shook his head, leaned over and tapped the logo at the top of the card. "Akio-chan's in charge of this one. The Red Iris. They need security. Nothing complicated, just someone to man the doors and stop unwanted visitors."

That didn't sound so different to what he'd been trained to do back in Soul Society. Though he guessed they probably drew the line at killing people here in the living world. Rubbing a thumb over the embossed card, Renji said, "That sounds okay. I reckon I could do that."

"So do I," replied Mizuiro, but he wasn't looking at Renji. He was focused further up the carriage on Byakuya. "What about him?"

Keigo had given up chatting to Byakuya. He was sat with his elbows on his knees staring at the floor while, beside him, Byakuya seemed to be dozing. Renji knew him well enough to know it was fake. Even disturbed as he was, Byakuya would never sleep surrounded by so many strangers.

"His instincts are still there," Renji said, taking out his phone and slipping the card into the case alongside it. Keigo must have caught the movement from the corner of his eye. He glanced up, saw them looking at him and, giving Byakuya a shifty backward glance, came and joined them. He was just sitting down as Renji explained to Mizuiro, "Getting a bit screwed up won't change that. He's been a captain for half a century."

Keigo did a perfect double take and almost missed the seat. "How the hell old are you guys anyway?" he demanded, impressing Renji with his ability to keep his voice down for once.

Renji smirked at him, remembering Ichigo's reaction to this exact same thing. "Byakuya's about a century and a half, give or take. Me, I'm not sure exactly, but younger than that. Still over a hundred though." He had to be. They were almost onto a new century and he remembered them celebrating the end of the last one in the camps. There'd been a feast. It'd been the first time Renji had ever tasted meat.

Keigo was shaking his head in disbelief. "I thought you were both in your twenties. Thirty, tops." He thumped back in his seat. "Wow, and I thought Mizuiro was the one with a thing for older partners. I guess Ichigo was the dark horse all along… ah, erm." He stuttered to a halt, face flushing scarlet from neck to hairline. "How about we forget I just said that." 

Okay, there was something going on here that Renji was missing. Mizuiro tutted and shook his head. "Asano, Asano," he said with exaggerated patience. "I don't think Renji-san will be embarrassed by you outing his lover to him." He turned a quizzical eye on Renji. "That is if we're not completely wrong. Ichigo is your significant other, yes?"

Renji's gaze flicked immediately to Byakuya who, now Keigo had gone, wasn't pretending to sleep any longer. He was watching them, listening probably. Grey eyes met Renji's for a moment before a blink shifted their gaze out of the window, but Renji didn't miss the hesitancy in the look. Was Byakuya scared of what answer Renji might give? Considering his behaviour recently, he had every right to be.

But it wasn't as simple as that. Renji knew it, and if Byakuya was being honest with himself, he would know too. Their lives had been turned upside down. Both of them had been hurt badly, physically and emotionally, and sure Byakuya was being an ass at the moment, but that didn't change things between them. Not really. Not at their core. Renji still loved the guy, he just didn't like him very much at the moment. So, "One of my partners, yeah. Is that going to be a problem?" To be honest, he'd forgotten he hadn't told them about Ichigo. 

"Not to me," Mizuiro replied. "And not at the Red Iris either."

"Nor for me," Keigo put in, folding his arms over his chest and sighing heavily. "I just wish Ichigo had said something before, is all. All those years ragging on him about dating girls. I feel like such an idiot."

"That's because you are one," Mizuiro pointed out, before turning back to Renji again. "But be warned, not everyone will be so polite. In fact, I told Akio-chan that you and Byakuya-san were evicted from your previous home for being gay. It seemed like a good cover story. She was very sympathetic."

"Which of course had nothing to do with it being you who was telling her," Keigo muttered under his breath. 

"Akio-chan is a dear friend, nothing more-" Mizuiro began, only to be cut off when Keigo hooted with a bitter sounding laugh. "Friend! What sort of a guy goes on a three week cruise with a friend and comes back with no tanlines?"

Whatever the hell they were talking about, Renji was totally lost. Deciding to get them back on track, he said, "So she's okay about us both being guys." It was a 'thing' apparently in the living world. Renji was starting to grasp why Ichigo might have been so uncomfortable with him and Byakuya to start with. Beyond the obvious, of course.

"She's fine," Mizuiro said, flashing Keigo a final dirty look. "Quite a few of the people who work around there are gay or whatever, so it's not an issue. Just don't walk around holding hands and kissing in public and you'll be fine."

Renji tried imagining doing either of those things with Byakuya and failed completely. "So not gonna be a problem," he said.

*

They changed trains once, to one that ran under the ground. That was a lot more crowded and they ended up jammed together in the corner, hanging on to anything that wasn't a person. At the second to last station, when the doors opened and a group of guys with dyed hair and distinctive clothing piled in, laughing and play-fighting, Renji thought Byakuya was going to break and run, he looked so freaked out. Grabbing a cool hand, Renji tugged him closer, tucking him between Renji and the wall of the carriage. When the wall hit his back, Byakuya relaxed as though someone had punctured him with a pin, and his quietly grateful, "Thank you, Renji," made Renji have to focus hard on the floor so as to not grin like a loon. It might be small and petty, but it felt really good to be the protector instead of the victim for a change.

The area they ended up in wasn't unlike some of the parts of Matsuyama Renji vaguely remembered being carried through. Colourful billboards plastered the tops of department stores whose ground floors boasted vast window-displays of expensive looking gadgets. Restaurants, advertising food that Renji had never even heard of, rubbed shoulders with smaller shops selling jewelry, clothing and art. The streets were wide, busy with traffic going both ways, and the sidewalks clogged with people of all ages, shapes and sizes, dashing in and out of buildings and hurrying, hurrying everywhere.

Further in, the tone changed. Clubs, their doors shuttered and interiors dim this time of day, crowded close to fast food joints and bars. Here the billboards showed pictures of scantily clad women or pretty young guys in suits, and cinemas competed with theatres touting live action shows. The shops were smaller, the numbers of cars fewer and everywhere hung signs that, come nightfall would glow with neon light. The people too were different. Younger, dressed a bit more wildly, and with a look about them that said they hadn't long been up and about, despite it being late afternoon.

Leaving that area behind, they entered a warren of back roads that seemed to have an equal mix of residential and business premises. The Red Iris took up part of a corner plot in a three storey building with a yellow brick facade. The rest of it housed a bookstore, a small grocery and a place that sold candles and maybe perfume. Small eateries and izakaya populated the rest of the immediate area, their signs smaller and more discrete than some they'd past. There was a feeling of 'being part of, but not quite' hanging around the whole block.

As they arrived, the shutters across the front of the club drew back and a thin-faced man in a white shirt and dark pants, wielding a mop and with a cigarette drooping from the corner of his mouth, gestured for them to come inside. Mizuiro entered without hesitating, so Renji followed, ducking his head to avoid smacking it on the low lintel. 

Inside, the dark red painted corridor kicked almost immediately right, leading a short way up to a pair of glossy black doors facing each other across the end. The one on the left was open and, as they entered, Renji had enough time to register yet more red and black around a smallish space that stank of stale cigarette smoke before a voice squealed, "Mizu-chan!" and a girl in a eye-scorching yellow tartan school uniform with her hair in pigtails threw herself off a barstool into Mizuiro's arms. 

"Akio-chan," Mizuiro replied, the epitome of calm in the face of this female whirlwind. Renji blinked at her, remembering the name on the business card; Kutsuzawa Akio. This was the bar owner? It couldn't be. She was a kid. A daughter maybe?

Mizuiro untangled himself from the girl's enthusiastic greeting and turned her towards them. "These are the friends I was telling you about."

"Renji. Byakuya," she said, dipping a cutesy little curtsy. As the light hit her face, Renji realised she wasn't the child he'd assumed she was from her behaviour and dress. There were the beginnings of crow's feet at the corners of eyes that were way too knowing to be truly youthful. 

To Renji's surprise, it was Byakuya who bowed first. "Thank you for considering us," he said, coming up once before bowing again.

"You're so sweet," Akio gushed. "And so good looking." She stroked a finger down Byakuya's face before flouncing over to Renji and, reaching up, resting her hand against the centre of his chest. "Look at you up there, all glowery and fierce with those eyebrows! Scary, ah!" Grabbing her hand back like she'd got burnt touching him, she clutched it to her chest and spun on Mizuiro with an accusing pout. "You didn't tell me they were like this."

To give Mizuiro credit, he regrouped like a pro. "When a thing defies description, it's better to allow someone to experience it for themselves," he said.

"You're so right," she agreed with wide-eyed seriousness, then spun towards Renji and Byakuya again, short skirt flaring. Hands clasped behind her, she walked around them, inspecting them with eager eyes. Renji did his best not feel like a cut of meat in a butcher's window and, by dint of fixing his eyes on the wall, managed at least to not fidget. There was a stylised picture of a woman painted there, or it might have been a flower, it was difficult to tell. 

The rest of the decor was unremarkable. The room was maybe only the size of Byakuya's bedroom back in Seireitei and it's most prominent feature, a long padded couch covered in deep red and burgundy brocade was set width-ways across the middle, effectively divided that small space further. From where he was standing, all Renji could see at the far end was a low plinth with some kind of box on it. At this end, a dozen black leatherette covered chairs clustered around a few tables. The bar, with tall stools standing in front of it, took up most of the left hand wall and bridged the gap between the two areas. 

Akio hove back into view. Her mouth was pulled into a tight moue of displeasure. "They'll need a makeover of course," she said.

Renji frowned in confusion. "I thought we were just working security?" 

That won him an even more disapproving look. "Even if you're on the door, there are standards to be maintained, you know. Jeans and these," she waved a hand at their hoodies, "No, just no. You'll need suits, both of you. Nic will take you."

Nic? Renji glanced round, to discover a young man slouching in the entranceway smoking a cigarette. He looked like one of the guys who'd got on the train, the ones who'd freaked Byakuya out so much. His jacket was black leather, his pants skin tight, and his collar-length hair, which was almost the same colour as Ichigo's but dyed that way going by his hawkish dark eyebrows, looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, which Renji suspected was the whole point. 

When Renji turned to look at him, he raised a hand. "Hey," he rumbled lazily. His jacket gaped open revealing a shirt made of some kind of net-like material.

Renji nodded at him before turning back to Akio. He was starting to get a really bad idea about what this place might be. "I don't sleep with people for money," he said. Sure it was rude, and they were desperate, but like Akio had said, there were standards. Renji had them, and he wasn't someone's whore. He'd had enough accusations of that thrown at him over the years to even think of doing it for real.

Behind him, Nic snorted amusement, and a smile quirked one side of Akio's mouth. It was the most genuine expression Renji had seen on her face. "Good," she said, "because I won't be paying you for sleeping."

That did it. Renji reached for Byakuya, intending to drag him out the door by force if necessary, only for Mizuiro to lay a calming hand on his arm. "You should hear her out. This isn't what you think."

"It's not? 'Cause it sure looks like a whore house to me." Renji waved a hand at 'Nic' and the clothing Akio was wearing. "Why else are they dressing up like that?"

"It's called fantasy," Akio said. "Or don't they have that where you come from."

Where he came from people didn't dare. "So he's not having sex with people?" Renji jerked a thumb at Nic, who'd slouched further into the bar and was now leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sure he's having sex with lots of people. I'm just not paying him to do it," Akio replied. She slid her arm through Mizuiro's. "Are you sure this one's gay. He seems very judgemental," she said as she drew him a few steps away towards the couch, leaving Renji to glare after them in total frustration because, last Renji heard, fucking guys didn't make any difference to your morals. Then again, what the fuck did he know anymore.

"Renji?" Byakuya's quiet voice drew Renji's immediate attention. He turned towards him eagerly. It didn't matter if they were fighting, if Byakuya said the word, they'd be out of here in a heartbeat. And damn it, there he went again, waiting on Byakuya's say so when it was his decision to make too. 

What Byakuya actually said was, "Are you sure we can afford to be choosy?"

That was like a bucket of cold water to the face for Renji. Because Byakuya was right. They couldn't afford to turn this gig down, however much it stank. They didn't even have the funds between them to pay the train-fare back to Karakura, and since Arisawa-sensei had the glove, they couldn't dump the gigai and go in soul form either.

"Crap," he muttered under his breath. He hated feeling trapped and trapped was all he'd been feeling since this whole mess had happened.

"You know, it can't be all that bad," Keigo said. He had that apologetic embarrassed look about him again like he'd had when he was talking about Ichigo. "Mizuiro used to work here sometimes, and he wouldn't take money to sleep with women. I mean, he's got loads of girlfriends and all that, but he'd only do a job if it was fun. He doesn't need money."

Renji looked over at Mizuiro and Akio who were sat side by side on the couch talking in low voices. That apartment with all the fancy stuff in it had belonged to Mizuiro's parents, and though Renji well knew the difference between living in a nice place and owning it yourself, he'd never got a 'poor' vibe off Mizuiro. So, was Keigo right? There was one person in the room he might get a straight answer from.

"Oi, you," he called to Nic. The guy glanced up and, when Renji jerked his thumb, sauntered over to join them, finding a new patch of wall to lean against. "You wanna explain what this job's all about?" Renji asked.

"Keeping rich ladies happy," Nic replied in a low level voice. He had sultry eyes, Renji realised, made more so by a touch of kohl. "They come in here and drink. We talk to them, ask 'em how their day went, stuff like that."

"That's it?" Renji found that hard to believe. 

Nic shrugged lazily. "We're quieter than some of the other places. Sometimes one of us sings. Maybe dances a bit. " He nodded towards a slightly raised area at the far end of the small room that could be kind of a stage if you squinted. "Like Akio-chan says, it's fantasy. They just wanna pretend someone gives a shit about 'em for a little while."

Put like that, it sounded more sad than sordid. "Anyhow," Nic continued, "you guys'll be out front, so you ain't gotta worry about what's going on back here."

That was an excellent point. Renji could feel himself giving in. He didn't like it, but Byakuya was right. They needed to get out of the hospital basement, and to do that they had to have a job, any job, and this was the only offer they'd had.

"Okay," he said, feeling like he was selling out to all those assholes who'd called him a gaki whore. "We'll take it."

After that, it was a bit of a whirlwind. Akio, who forgave them immediately, set about them, giggling, with a tape measure and then sent them out with Nic to buy clothes, which Renji suspected Mizuiro ended up paying for since he definitely glimpsed that black leather wallet being shoved back into Mizuiro's pocket several times. 

Unlike Nic and the other 'host' they met, a skinny punk-looking kid with a ring through his nose and a pierced tongue, who went by the name of Lee, Renji and Byakuya got to wear suits, which was something of a relief. Renji couldn't imagine Byakuya ever being comfortable in a fishnet shirt that showed his nipples. Though the idea of it made Renji have to go stand in the corner and take a few deep breaths to recover.

The Red Iris was closed on a Monday so they had a whole twenty four hours to get settled before they had to start working. Without even being asked, Keigo donated funds for the train so they could go back and pick up their things. 'And leave a message for Ichigo, so he knows where you've gone,' as the kid had said. 

Not that Renji needed the reminder. He was kind of banking on Ichigo finding them something else in the way of work the next time he came to the living world because the room that went with this job was just about as bad as Renji had feared. 

Up on the second floor, it was basically a broom-cupboard. Renji knew that because it stank of chemicals and he spotted the cleaning supplies stacked up in the corner of the office next door. There was a futon that he and Byakuya would have to share, because as Akio-chan said, 'Oh my god, you guys make such a cute couple,' and a shelf where they could put their clothes, once they had more than the ones they stood up in and their work suits. The only toilet was the public one downstairs and they were expected to eat elsewhere.

In fact, the only good thing to be said for the whole set-up was that their room came with a lock, to which he and Byakuya had the only key, and the freedom implicit in that little bit of metal made all the rest of the crap seem almost worthwhile. Only later, curled back to back on the lumpy futon with Byakuya, stomach full of the ramen Nic had treated them to, and listening to the distant hubbub of people and music outside, did the doubts start to creep back in again like termites undermining all his confidence. 

Rolling onto his back, Renji whispered into the darkness. "This was the right thing to do, wasn't it?" 

For the longest moment, he thought Byakuya was sleeping, then the mattress stirred and Renji felt cool fingers tangle with his own. "Back when we first arrived in Karakura, it was you who told me that we had to follow Isshin's example if we were to survive here. That we had to make human friends and human lives for ourselves. This is, I believe, about as human as you can possibly get, so yes, Renji, it was _definitely_ the right thing to do."

Renji huffed a laugh, comforted by Byakuya's awkward attempt at reassurance. It was good to know some things never changed. "I guess we're in it together, whatever happens," he said with a little squeeze of his fingers. 

Byakuya squeezed back and, thinking the conversation finished, Renji was about to try getting back to sleep, when Byakuya spoke again, hesitant and so quietly that Renji could easily have missed it if they weren't lying so close together. "I owe you… an explanation. You should know… Senbonzakura is gone." Exhaling shakily, Byakuya raised their entwined fingers and pressed them to his chest. "In here."

The truth, even though he'd suspected it forever, still hit like a punch to the gut. Renji propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at Byakuya. There wasn't a lot of light, just what was coming in under the door, but it was enough to see that Byakuya was turned away, staring the wall.

Years ago, on the heels of Renji and Zabimaru working out Broken Baboon's Fang, Byakuya had tried emulating the move with Senbonzakura. During the challenges, he'd told Ichigo that Second Viewing forced Senbonzakura into suicide. That wasn't true, it just destroyed the blade for a bit, but Renji knew that the sentiment behind the words echoed what Byakuya had felt that first time. He'd been facing Renji across the sparring field when it happened, so Renji had seen Byakuya's terror when, back in its sealed form, Senbonzakura crumbled to nothing but an empty hilt in his hand. 

For Byakuya to say now that Senbonzakura was gone and to even hint at his inner world meant this was really freaking serious. Was Renji right in his suspicions? Had Byakuya used Second Viewing in bankai, in some kind of ultimate final move that destroyed the zanpakutō completely?

Untangling their fingers, Renji caught Byakuya's chin and turned him so they were facing each other. "You should have said something earlier," he said, and damn that might have come out harsher than Renji intended, but for crap's sake, if that was what had happened, it sure explained why Byakuya was such a basket case. 

The reply came in the form of closed eyes and a breathed, "I didn't know how." 

That Renji understood. It would have killed him to speak about Zabimaru when he'd first been sealed, and Zabimaru had still been inside Renji, still a part of him, however inaccessible. 

But that couldn't be the whole story. It was an established fact that a shinigami couldn't survive without their zanpakutō and, though Byakuya was seriously fucked up, he wasn't dead, which meant some spark of Senbonzakura's spirit had to have survived. It was in there, somewhere. 

At one point, Renji doubted he'd ever feel Zabimaru again, but they were already fighting their way back to each other. 

Over Zabimaru's distant but determined roar, Renji wondered if maybe that was all Byakuya needed too. Time for Senbonzakura to heal and for Byakuya to bond with it again. It had worked for Renji. Hells, he almost had shikai and bankai was bound to follow. All he'd needed was time, and an asauchi.

Which, yeah. Now a lot of things were making more sense. And the lack of an asauchi was going to be a huge problem. Until Ichigo sent one through, Renji was going to have to be on his guard. Zabimaru's spirit might be well-entrenched inside its blade, but Byakuya was desperate and desperate people did really dumb things, like steal the stuff they needed or attack people who got in their way. Renji knew; once upon a time, he'd been that guy, he'd done the stupid things.

As of now, Zabimaru was probably safe. The blade was inside Renji's gigai with him, and with the way these Quincy bodies trapped reiryoku, Byakuya wouldn't be able to attack like he had before. The mood swings and spacing out they could deal with. Hells, Byakuya had carried Renji around for weeks when he'd been too crippled to move, the least Renji could do was repay the favour.

But sooner or later, if Renji was going to keep training, and Byakuya was going to sit jinzen properly, they'd have to return to their soul forms. That would leave Renji vulnerable, and no way was Renji risking that until he'd made a few things clear. 

Releasing the grip he had on Byakuya's chin, Renji slid his hand up to cup a smooth cheek instead, brought their faces closer together and dropped his voice to a threatening purr. "Just let's get one thing straight. Zabimaru is mine. If you ever try attacking me again, I won't stop at knocking you out. I will take you down. And you know I can do it too, don't you?" 

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either. In his right mind, even without Senbonzakura, Byakuya would be a strong opponent; his kidō and reiatsu levels still surpassed Renji's. But in the state he was in, especially trapped in the gigai, Renji could beat him, and on some level Byakuya had to know that. 

"Byakuya, answer me."

But for it to mean anything, Byakuya had to acknowledge it. And right now, he wasn't acknowledging anything. All Renji was getting for his pains was silence and closed eyes. And that wasn't good enough. 

Nerves fluttering his gut from what he was about to do, he crawled over the top of Byakuya, who wedged an arm between them and tried to push Renji away, face turned to the side, and eyes screwed shut. Renji grabbed the arm by the wrist and pinned it firmly to the mattress, then did the same with the other. "Look at me," he growled. "Byakuya, look at me."

Eyes opened, glinting in the darkness. Beneath him, Renji could feel Byakuya's breath coming in short sharp pants like barely controlled panic. He was getting through, he thought. Just a little bit further.

"You've seen how close I am to getting shikai again. Without Senbonzakura on your side, me and Zabimaru are stronger than you." 

A knee came up in some sort of half-hearted attempt to resist. Renji avoided it easily and dropped his full weight down on top of Byakuya, who grunted quietly at the impact. Renji let go of his wrists, folded his arms across Byakuya's chest and leaned. It wasn't rope, but it was all Renji had to work with. "Do I got to prove that to you?"

For a moment Renji thought Byakuya was going to keep fighting. Then he went limp and, turning his head to expose his neck, breathed, "I can't fight you."

In Renji's book, that was as much of an answer as he needed. Dipping his head, he placed a gentle kiss to Byakuya's pulse point before saying, "It'll be be okay, I promise. But you've got to keep on top of the stupid. No more of it, you hear me?"

A shudder ran through Byakuya. "Yes."

Finally. Rolling off Byakuya and onto his back, Renji spoke to the ceiling, "Okay, so here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna settle in here, do this job, get ourselves organised, and then we're gonna try and get Senbonzakura back." 

At that, Byakuya tried to get up out of the bed. Renji grabbed him by the T-shirt and, dragging him back down, tucked him firmly against his side, ignoring the desultory wriggling like he did with Ichigo when he did the same thing. "Remember what Ichigo said before? You're not alone. Me and him, we can fix this. And until he comes through, you and me can get the ball rolling. Together there's nothing the three of us can't sort out. But not if we keep fighting each other. So, like I said, we keep our heads down, play human and in our spare time, we work on our zanpakutō." That sounded like a pretty solid plan. "Now, say 'yes, Renji'."

A brief and churlish silence followed, but then, murmured against his arm, came, "Yes, Renji." It wasn't much, but it was a start. Undoubtedly there would be more problems to come, but they could face and deal with them as they happened. For now, this would do.


	8. Taichō for Tea x3

Tōsen had said the house was just north of the 13th and had purple paint on the shutters. Keeping his eyes on passing facades, Ichigo hopped from rooftop to rooftop through the predominantly residential area searching for the right one. He was beginning to suspect he was in the wrong place. The houses here were all pretty small, not at all what Ichigo expected a captain's house to look like. Then again, apart from Byakuya and Yoruichi, he'd never visited a captain's home, and since they were both True First nobles and had the estates to match, they didn't count. 

A sudden brief flare of reiatsu off to the left brought Ichigo to sudden halt. That had been Tōsen's, he was sure of it. Had he felt Ichigo searching for him and sent out a signal?

It seemed as likely as not. Ichigo had been trying to keep his reiatsu to as low a burn as he could, but being blind, Tōsen had to be like Hanatarō and use reiatsu and reiryoku to find his way around. His skills as a sensor had to be phenomenal.

The house, when Ichigo arrived, was exactly as Tōsen had described it. It was also pretty small, though several of the buildings on either side seemed to be empty. Or, at least, none showed any signs of being lit and it was well past sundown. The local streets were also deserted. 

Ichigo supposed he should be suspicious, the set-up screamed ambush, but Tōsen had no lieutenant, and even if he had a whole load of seated officers lying in wait, Ichigo reckoned he could probably take out most of them in a fair fight. 

And if it came to an unfair one? 

Ichigo looked back over his shoulder at his best friend. That was what Chad was for. 

Plus, getting out on his own had proved impossible after he'd dumped Chad for the trip out to Ginzan, so eventually Ichigo had simply bowed to the inevitable and brought him along on this one. If Tōsen didn't like it, tough. Most of Seireitei didn't seem to deem Chad worth noticing, so Ichigo would just pretend to do the same.

After giving the area one final check, Ichigo dropped to ground level and lead the way over to the house with the purple shutters. But before he could knock, the door opened, at first just a crack, and then wider to reveal a brightly lit entranceway and someone in a sleeveless shihakushō - a guy going by the way they walked - heading away from them deeper into the house. When the person reached the far end of the corridor, they stopped and looked back, letting the light from the entrance shine on their face.

"Hang on, that's… Hisagi," Ichigo hissed. 

It had to be him - the scars and hollow eyes kind of gave it away - but his body language and vibe were completely different to the last time Ichigo had seen him. That had been outside the 12th, the day Ichigo had been trying to get Renji back from Kurotsuchi, just after their rescue of Uryū had gone all to hell. Despite being on their side, that day Hisagi had been just as feral and scary as he normally was; body language more animal than human, and with that tightly strung vibe that suggested he was going to explode into violence any second.

The man standing at the other end of the hallway holding a tea-bowl and gesturing for Ichigo and Chad to come in, had none of that. He looked, for want of a better word, normal.

Ichigo glanced back over his shoulder, just to double check he hadn't entered some kind of twilight zone, but no, there was Chad, as upright and calm as ever, if looking a bit curious, and behind him the dark deserted street, which looked totally the same as it had before. Ichigo puffed out a breath. It could be an Aizen illusion, he supposed. But that seemed a bit unlikely. If you were trying to get someone to let down their guard, you'd show them something they expected to see, not something they found pretty much unbelievable to start with. Which meant… there was something going on here that Ichigo wanted to know a lot more about.

"Shall we?" Ichigo murmured.

At Chad's low grunt of agreement, Ichigo took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. Chad drew the door closed behind them and together they kicked off their sandals. There were three pairs in the genkan already. Tōsen, Hisagi and, given the presence of the other two men and the sudden loud guffaw of laughter from inside, Hirako Shinji, probably. Ichigo grimaced as the prospects for the evening took a nosedive.

Since Hisagi had vanished through the inner door while they were losing their footwear, it seemed logical to follow him. Aware of Chad close behind, Ichigo padded up the carpeted hallway past doors that opened on hinges rather than sliding on runners, and stopped short outside the room Hisagi had entered. It wasn't a large room but, jammed into it was a brocade upholstered sofa with matching armchairs, currently occupied by Tōsen and a sprawling Hirako, and behind them, standing against the back wall, an honest to god upright piano. 

There was no sign of Hisagi, though another room opened off to the right of this one. A kitchen, Ichigo realised, when he caught sight of counters and a modern style cooker through the doorway. If there was a microwave of some kind in there, Ichigo was moving in tomorrow.

"Well, if it ain't the poor little rich boy," carolled Hirako, that patented broad grin plastering all over his face the second he saw Ichigo. 

"Fuck off, Hirako," Ichigo replied without looking at the guy, "I don't remember your name being on the invitation list."

Hirako's eyes narrowed. "I don't remember your boy-toy being on it either, but there he is."

Touche. Ichigo couldn't exactly argue with that one.

"My apologies, Shiba," Tōsen said, standing to greet him. "Shinji agreed to remain until we were able to ascertain the nature of your companion." 

He was maskless tonight. It was strange seeing his milky eyes, but no stranger than Hanatarō's ruined face, so Ichigo sucked it up and moved on. Returning Tōsen's polite nod, he said, "Yeah, sorry. I know you said to come alone, but he kind of insisted."

"You coulda just ordered him to stay home," Hirako grumbled with a glare over Ichigo's shoulder at Chad, who stared impassively back. 

Tōsen gestured them towards the couch as he said to Hirako, "I'm sure that, like all of us captains, Shiba has learnt to pick his battles with those determined to keep him safe." The tolerant humour in his voice reminded Ichigo of the way he'd spoken to him up at the Ginzan camp. Did Tōsen consider him and Hirako similar people? That was kind of insulting. He was nothing like that idiot.

Still looking around, Ichigo took a seat on the sofa. Chad immediately went and stood behind him, back to the piano, arms folded and glowering like some kind of henchman from The Godfather, which, honestly, was kind of the effect they were going for. Most of the time it worked really well; apparently a lot of people found Chad intimidating when he did that. Not Hirako though, who was craning his neck so he could still give Chad filthy looks.

Thanks to his virtually horizontal position, Hirako's stupidly long blond hair flowed over his shoulders and across the arms of his chair, almost to the floor. Ichigo toyed briefly with dubbing him 'Rapunzel' before deciding to hold the nickname in reserve for a more suitable occasion, like maybe the next captain's meeting.

But, much as Ichigo didn't like the guy, he was here, and wasn't showing any signs of leaving, so Ichigo guessed he'd better just ignore him for now. He gestured at the room, "So how come this place is all…?" 

"Not still stuck in the stone age?" Hirako smirked. "That'd be because we've got taste and style."

Ichigo pulled a face at him. A totally adult and mature face, because unlike Hirako he wasn't an idiot. Which was when Hisagi appeared in the doorway carrying a tray with teapot and bowls, and a bottle of sake. 

Silently, and with remarkable grace, Hisagi hooked a small table out from beside Tōsen's chair with his foot and knelt on the carpeted floor to place the tray on it. Then he sat back on his heels and gazed up at Ichigo, who stared back, uncomfortably reminded by Hisagi's black and bright gold eyes that, one of these days, he was going to have to quit being such a coward and head back into his inner world to face his own hollow once again.

"He wishes to know if you would like tea or sake," explained Tōsen after an awkward few moments had lapsed. 

Ichigo's gaze flicked from Hisagi to Tōsen. "He can't just ask for himself?" 

"No, he can't," Hirako shot back, and followed it up with, "Oi, Hisagi, give him tea. Kid's still too young for the good stuff."

Hisagi immediately reached for the pot and Ichigo saw red. "Don't order him around like that!" 

"He's my lieutenant. I can do what I want with him," Hirako retorted. Reaching lazily out, he snagged the collar of Hisagi's shihakushō and gave it a solid tug. Hisagi swayed backwards, still with the teapot in his hands and whined quietly like he was confused.

That was it. Ichigo had had enough. "For fuck's sake leave the guy alone when he's trying to pour tea," he snapped, then, jabbing a finger in Hirako's direction, added to Tōsen, "How can you be friends with this asshole, after everything you said the other day?"

Tōsen never got a chance to reply. Hirako slid upright in his seat. "What's all this? Fraternising with the enemy? Shame on yer, Kaname."

"He's not the enemy," Tōsen replied, demonstrating, in Ichigo's opinion, an almost saintly amount of tolerance for Hirako's stupid. "Like I've told you, Shinji, if you just let yourself think about it rationally, you'd see how useful Shiba could be to our cause."

Our cause? Hirako Shinji, gambler and fight-owner, was down with rescuing poisoned kids? Ichigo boggled at the impossibility.

But if he was bothered by the comment Hirako didn't show it. He slumped back into his seat with a pout. "Not gonna happen," he said, and pointed an accusing finger at Ichigo. "He's a noble. Plus, he stole one of the Twins! The best fighters the Pits's seen for freaking decades! And that ain't the sort of thing I can just move on from."

He was talking about Chad, Ichigo realised, casting a glance over his shoulder at his friend. Then, hard on the heels of that thought came, 'Hang on, _how_ did he know about Chad?' That was supposed to have kept hush-hush between them and Iba-neesan. 

Chad must have had exactly the same thought. His cheeks paled and his eyebrows drew together in a frown. For Chad that was the equivalent of running screaming from the room.

Tōsen, absolutely unfazed by Hirako's show of petulance, was saying, "You're simply resentful because you wanted him for yourself." 

"Yeah, but as command material, not some freakin'…" Hirako waved both hands in Chad's direction, "sex toy thing!" he finished, managing to sound horrified and disappointed at the same time.

"Chad's not-!" Ichigo protested, then clamped his mouth shut as Hirako's eyes immediately fixed on him, narrowed and bright and knowing.

"So, yer not denying he was one of the Twins then." 

"Erm…" To deny it after what he'd just said would be stupid, especially with the evidence standing right behind him, but admitting it seemed equally dumb. Iba-neesan probably didn't take prisoners if anyone crossed her.

Apparently it didn't matter anyway, because Hirako took his hesitation as a confession. "I knew it!" he crowed, bouncing up from the chair. He stalked round the sofa towards Chad, staring at him with hungry eyes. "How much do you want for him?"

Ichigo was out of his seat only a moment later. "He's not…" he began, intending again to deny that Chad was or ever had been one of Iba-neesan's fighters. But no, it was pointless even trying. "Not for sale," he finished instead, fixing his eyes on Chad and willing him to hear Ichigo's apology for talking about him like that. 

But Chad seemed to have dropped into some kind of shutdown mode. He had his hands clasped behind him, his chin up and his eyes focused somewhere a million miles away. It was kinda creepy to see.

"Nah, come on, everyone's got their price," Hirako was saying, hands on hips. He glanced up at Chad. "You've gotta be bored with the big bastard by now. I heard he was crap with fellas. Don't do much more than lie back and cry."

Ichigo was over the sofa before he could even think what the fuck he was doing. Hirako went down under him with a yell and a crash, and Ichigo landed straddling Hirako's body, both hands round that skinny neck, hell bent on squeezing every last scrap of life out the shitty bastard that'd say things like that about anyone, let alone Ichigo's best fucking friend. Hands tightened. Hirako's face started turning red, and the sounds he was making. Wheezing, gasping… 

Ichigo froze. The guy wasn't suffocating, he was laughing!

Inside, the hollow roared. Ichigo's fist pulled back like someone else was pulling the strings and he smacked Hirako right in the face. Hirako took it like a pro, still laughing, only then putting his hand up to protect himself from any future onslaught. He might as well not have bothered because it was another who stopped Ichigo's second punch. 

Snarling, Ichigo swung to take out whoever it was preventing a totally righteous beatdown, and found Chad staring down at him with disappointed disapproval, one large hand tight around Ichigo's wrist.

Ichigo yanked on it reflexively, but Chad's grip held. "He's got it coming! Fucker's talking shit about you, come on!" Ichigo protested, yanking again.

"You can't fight him," Chad said, absolutely implacably. 

Fuck. Ichigo blinked down at the sniggering Hirako, whose mouth was bloody from the blow that'd split his lip. Chad was right. Hirako was a captain, and so was Ichigo. It was illegal for two captains to fight. If anyone got wind of this, Ichigo could end up in a world of trouble. 

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo staggered to his feet, shrugging off Chad's hold. Chad, apparently satisfied that Ichigo wasn't going to try killing Hirako again, turned to offer Hirako a hand up instead. Hirako accepted. Chad hauled the guy to his feet, made as if to turn away, then spun back towards him, and landed a vicious left cross right on Hirako's nose. 

Hirako staggered back, hands pressed to his face, and collided with the piano. Blood oozed between his fingers, dripping down his chin and onto the front of his haori, but the mad fuck was still laughing, words wheezing out between cackles. "Did ya see that? The power of that punch? I tell ya, Kaname, that boy's wasted being Shiba's fuck toy. He belongs with us." 

Ichigo opened his mouth to tell Hirako to fuck off, and never got the chance. Chad got in before him, grabbing Hirako by the front of his shihakushō and shoving him hard against the piano. It was impressive. Chad had six inches and a hundred pounds on Hirako, easy. 

Still wheezing, Hirako grabbed his arm, presumably to try and pry him off, but Chad wasn't letting go. Not yet anyway. "Let me make something clear," he growled, "I am _never_ going back in that arena. Not for you, not for anyone. I would die first." He gave Hirako a firm shake, then dropped him like the piece of trash he was. 

"He wasn't speaking of the arena," Tōsen said. 

Ichigo turned towards him. The new captain of the 13th was over the other side of the room, by the door, one arm firmly wrapped around Hisagi, holding him back. His other hand gripped Hisagi's collar as though preparing to release it. 

"What d'you mean?" Ichigo demanded, feeling Chad reverse up behind him and felt the immediate relief of knowing that his back was now protected. This move was instinctive between them, honed over years of fighting bullies and thugs; if the bad guys split into two groups, you faced one group each and fought back to back. It was safer that way.

"There are other causes to fight for beyond the Gotei," Tōsen said, "If you're prepared to look for them." 

"Yeah, sure, there's the Pits," Ichigo shot back. "But you heard what the man said, he's not going back there."

"I said causes. Money is not a cause, it's a means. Justice, mercy; they are causes. The fighters we are talking about-"

"Shut it, Kaname," Hirako snapped, though his voice sounded muffled. Ichigo just hoped his face hurt like hell.

"But think what he could contribute-"

"I told yer to can it! That ain't Shiba business!" 

Ichigo felt Chad move and a second later, Hirako stalked past them heading for the door, a bloodied cloth pressed to his nose. He glared at Ichigo, adding, "Hisagi, get yer shit, we're leaving. The air in here stinks of noble," before walking out and slamming the door closed behind him.

The room went quiet for a long moment, then with a resigned sounding sigh, Tōsen released his hold on Hisagi.

Ichigo tensed, half expecting an attack, but it didn't come. Instead, as soon as he was freed, Hisagi dropped to his knees between the armchairs where the small table had been overturned. The little teapot lay in pieces and the sake jug was draining the last of its contents onto the carpet. Hisagi started picking up, looking close to tears at the mess, which was beyond wrong for a guy who was normally so fierce.

"Please excuse Shinji," Tōsen said, taking pieces of broken crockery as Hisagi handed them to him. "Like many who spent years in the camps, he has difficulties trusting and a deep resentment of the nobility."

"That doesn't excuse what he said to Chad," Ichigo retorted, starting to unwind just a bit now Hirako was gone. That guy just really rubbed Ichigo the wrong way.

"Indeed it does not, and for that you have my apologies, Yasutora," Tōsen replied, with a polite nod in Chad's direction. "That particular aspect of Iba-neesan's stable sits very uncomfortably with me. For Shinji, it is more as a matter of course. Again, I blame the camps." 

As a kid, Tōsen had been a servant at the Kyōraku estate, Ichigo remembered, so if he'd been in a camp at all, it hadn't been for long. It made sense he'd see things a bit differently.

Ichigo watched as Hisagi sponged up the worst of the spills off the carpet with a cloth, then rose and held the tea tray out to Tōsen, who carefully placed all the bits on it then stood back as Hisagi carried it through into the kitchen. A crash followed a moment later and not long after that, the sound of a door opening and closing. Hisagi was gone, presumably to catch up with his captain.

Now it was just the three of them, Ichigo felt he could relax properly. "I still don't get how you can be friends with Hirako," he said, dropping into the same seat Hirako had been using before and waving at Chad to take the sofa. After giving Ichigo a doubtful look, Chad opted for the sofa arm instead and perched there looking supremely uncomfortable but, Ichigo guessed, more able to defend himself than if he'd been sitting properly.

"Despite what you might think, Hirako Shinji is a man of principle," Tōsen replied, sitting down himself, in the chair but more formally than Ichigo. 

Ichigo snorted in disbelief. "The guy just tried to buy my best friend so he could make him fight for money again. Sure, those are some pretty solid principles."

"He does not want Yasutora as a Pit fighter-" Tōsen began testily, before stopping himself. "That is beside the point. Our business tonight, however, does concern your friend."

"Chad?" Ichigo raised a querying brow in Chad's direction. He shrugged, looking as bemused as Ichigo felt.

"Yes," Tōsen replied, "Specifically his shikai."

Ichigo could tell from the way Chad suddenly went very still that Tōsen had just let a very large cat out of a very small bag. A chill ran down his spine. The rules about this were really simple; you had a shikai, you were in the Gotei, either as volunteer, in which case you were part of a division, or you got conscripted, which basically meant being handed to Kurotsuchi as a lab rat. 

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?" he demanded of Chad through gritted teeth, though honestly he already knew the answer.

"You would have had to sign me up," Chad replied.

And that was one thing Chad would not do. He'd told Ichigo, more than once. "Yeah, but we could have worked something out." Like sending him out to stay with Ryūken and Uryū. Ichigo puffed out a breath. "Damn it, how many people know?"

"Karin," Chad said. "She was there when it happened."

"When the 13th went up?" Chad nodded. Ichigo looked over at Tōsen. "That how you found out?"

Tōsen inclined his head. "He was using it on the front lines. I think others would have said something before now if the whole night hadn't been so chaotic. It's entirely possible it was mistaken for some ordinary weapon by most of the rank and file. However at least one of my seated officers has raised the matter in the past week."

Ichigo dropped back in the chair, thinking furiously. He was going to kill Karin for not saying anything, and Chad, later. Though he couldn't really blame them. Things had been pretty chaotic on the heels of the 13th's disaster. Beyond that, now he was talking damage control. 

Opening his eyes, he fixed Tōsen with a glare and said, "What do you want to keep quiet?" And damn it, after Ginzan, he thought he'd actually found a decent guy amongst the captains, which just went to show what a lousy judge of character he was.

Tōsen frowned. "You think I brought you here to blackmail you?" he said, and there was a very definite thread of hurt in his voice. 

"Well, what else am I supposed to think," Ichigo replied defensively. "If all you wanted was to give me a heads-up, you had tons of chances yesterday, up at Ginzan." 

"True, however that isn't all I want."

Not a warning, and not blackmail. Ichigo was at a loss. "So what the hell are you after?" he demanded, channelling some of his frustration into fingers clamping tight on the arms of the chair. The structure creaked alarmingly.

"To offer an alternative." 

Ichigo sneered. "It's not the 6th division he won't join, it's the Gotei." Otherwise he'd have offered Chad the option of going anywhere he damn well pleased. Shit, that would have been easy. 

"As I assumed. Which is why I'm offering something that isn't the Gotei. Or-" Tōsen added, hand held up as Ichigo drew breath to tell him to fuck off, "the fighting pits. There is another possibility." He licked his lips, like he was nervous or something. "Rukongai."

Ichigo froze, belly curdling with fear. Did Tōsen know about his uncle and cousin somehow? Was this all some kind of scam to get him to reveal where they were? 

Playing it cool, he managed a strangled, "But there's nowhere out there to live. He'd have to find food, avoid patrols. The 11th are always out there."

"Locals too, for the bounty," Chad put in. "That was how Jackie and I were caught the first time."

"Many are," Tōsen said with a nod. "And I'll admit that this strategy doesn't come without it's risks. But you know yourself that there are ways of making it work. Populations vary, as do the number of patrols an area receives. The 11th tends to focus on larger settlements, places with more people where it's easier for individuals to hide, and for people to conceal children with discernible levels of reiryoku."

Ichigo frowned, confused enough that he momentarily forgot to worry about his family. "Eh? Why'd they do that?"

"Older child means a bigger bounty," Chad explained. He'd relaxed a bit too, and seemed genuinely interested in what Tōsen was saying. Then again he wasn't having a panic about hidden Quincy. "Quite a few of the fighters were kids who'd left the camps early and been sheltered by locals. They only found out why when the shinigami turned up."

That was nasty, thinking you were safe only to be turned over to the bad guys. Ichigo scowled, furious at people who'd do that just for money. 

Tōsen was nodding. "It's an issue, and one that's been raised numerous times with Central 46 to no avail. However, it does mean that the 11th spends fewer resources on isolated areas, especially those with, shall we say, reputations for being haunted or cursed, like the sites of old hollow attacks or natural disasters."

Thinking back to the ruins outside the Kyōraku estate, that made sense to Ichigo. Years ago, that place must have been a thriving village. Today it was totally deserted. 

Tōsen was right, if you wanted to hide out in Rukongai, that place would be perfect. It was like the mine where Ganju had first stashed Ryūken and Uryū; easy to set up shelters that didn't look that different from the ruins themselves. There were even fields that could be cleared and cultivated, which would stop people having to steal or buy food from black marketeers, which was what the people sheltering the kids probably did. And that was probably what gave them away to the 11th too. 

As far as Ichigo knew, Ganju exported food from Seireitei, but he had the cover of his boar obsession. No one looked twice when he set off into Rukongai with a cart full of veggies and rice. They just assumed he was pampering his pigs. 

But living out in Rukongai with the likes of Ganju and his gang was one hell of a lot different to living out there alone. If you got sick or hurt, there'd be no one to look out for you. How would you sleep and keep guard at the same time? Ichigo knew from experience that that was a bitch. It had been one of his main reasons for making Chad his bodyguard, so he'd have someone he trusted guarding his back while he slept. To make Rukongai a refuge that worked, you had to have communities. Small enough not to attract attention, but big enough to give mutual support. 

And Tōsen was talking like this was doable, like he could offer something concrete to Chad. Though he was being clever about it. So far he hadn't said anything that could be construed as illegal, it was just comments and observations. He was leaving it up to Ichigo to string the facts together. 

So, was Tōsen just giving him enough rope to hang himself, or was he holding out a lifeline and waiting for Ichigo to grab hold? Was this about Ichigo's Quincy family, or was it about some totally different community out there in Rukongai?

There was only one way to find out. "Those kids from Ginzan," Ichigo said, "I never asked, how are they doing?" 

Tōsen took the non-sequitur totally in his stride. "Sadly six didn't make it back to Seireitei. Of the rest, I think maybe half will serve."

At face value, that looked bad, but Ichigo had learnt from Byakuya that what people didn't say in Seireitei was often more important than what they did. Tōsen hadn't said the kids had died, just that they'd not made it back. So, was Ichigo supposed to presume they were at some settlement somewhere out in Rukongai?

Or maybe Tōsen had meant dead…

Screw this. No one ever said Ichigo was the patient sort. "Why didn't you just say you're stashing people out in Rukongai?" he demanded.

A definite smile appeared on Tōsen's lips. "I believe I was saying exactly that."

"Well, yeah, but…"

"If it wasn't what you'd wanted to hear, you could have ignored it," Tōsen continued. And Ichigo hadn't actually thought about it that way. Tōsen had been giving him an out, if he'd wanted it, because what Tōsen was doing was definitely illegal. 

Of course neither Tōsen nor Chad knew that Ichigo was already ripping that law to shreds by harbouring Quincy.

"Okay, but why send them to Rukongai? Before, when you were at the 5th and keeping it quiet from Hirako, that made sense, but you're a captain now, you can just sign them up."

"And have the 13th end up like the 6th?" Tōsen shook his head with a quiet rueful laugh. "Well, for many that is the best option, true. Even if they don't have sufficient power to serve as true shinigami, there are places in Seireitei for servants and support staff if the candidate is fit. But for the injured, the sick, the elderly, those who've been dismissed and abandoned to the dubious sanctuary of the streets, the non-people as Central would have it, nowhere is truly safe."

Not with the likes of Kurotsuchi stalking the streets. Not to mention Urahara and Aizen. Ichigo shuddered, recalling Rikichi's terror at being put back out to take his chances. That night, Byakuya had said there were places that took people in. Had this been what he meant? Probably not. Back then any hint of lawbreaking and Byakuya would've been all over reporting Tōsen to Central. And then he went and slaughtered the lot of them because they applied those same laws to Renji. Strange how things looked different when it got personal.

Not that Ichigo was any better. He'd made a deal with Urahara to get Uryū out of the 12th, and then used his position as Shiba clan-head to make them safe out in Rukongai. Comparing that to communities working and living together under the radar, Ichigo decided he liked Tōsen's bigger picture better than a purely personal one.

"You can't keep sending them out there," Chad said suddenly. "It's not a sustainable model for the long term."

Lips flattening, Tōsen stared at him, amusement gone. "It will last long enough."

"Until Hirako starts his revolution."

At Chad's quiet statement, Tōsen's reiatsu erupted, shooting out like a spear. Chad flung his own up in defence, managing to only get smacked over the end of the sofa rather than fired out through the opposite wall. Ichigo was scrambling to his feet, reaching for Zangetsu, before he remembered about the captain thing, but by then, Tōsen had stopped attacking. For now anyway, though who knew how long that was going to last.

Tōsen was standing over Chad - who was propped against the piano, grimacing and rubbing his chest with the heel of hand - and every part of him was strung tight, his reiatsu a seething mass just below the surface. One wrong move and this was gonna turn nasty, real fast.

"Okay," Ichigo said, one hand on Zangetsu and the other making calm down gestures. "How about we talk this out instead of fighting." 

"There is nothing to talk about," Tōsen snapped. "I will not see treasonous accusations against my old captain stand unchallenged." He raised his hands, lips moving. Some kind of hado. Ichigo had seconds, if that, to stop this, but he really really didn't want to fight. Not if what Chad had said was true. 

_So tell him that, idiot._

For once, Ichigo didn't try arguing with his hollow's advice. Instead, he shoved between Tōsen and Chad, putting himself in the firing line, and stated as calmly as he could, "How about if I said that a revolution's what both of us want too."

Just like with Chad earlier, the stillness in Tōsen's body told Ichigo all he needed to know. He'd piqued the guy's interest. He wouldn't attack now, not until he'd heard what Ichigo had to say. 

Taking a step back, Ichigo continued with a rueful chuckle, "Hirako, though? Seriously? Because no way would I have pegged the guy for a closet Mao freak."

Tōsen cocked his head at Ichigo. "Which just goes to prove how little you know of him," he said flatly, before turning away and heading towards the kitchen.

Once he'd gone, Ichigo held out a hand to Chad, saying in a low voice, "Sorry about that. I had no idea he was going to flip out."

"It's me who should be apologising," Chad replied, levering himself off the floor with the aid of Ichigo's steadying tug. Ichigo missed neither the flinch as he tried to stand up straight, or his grunt of relief as he sat down properly on the sofa. After a second, he gazed up at Ichigo and said, "I should have told you about my shikai."

Ichigo dropped down beside him. "Eh, probably, but then we'd have missed out on all this." He waved an explicatory hand. "Our very own home-grown revolution."

Chad hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting towards the kitchen doorway before he murmured, "Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun."

What exactly that was supposed to mean, Ichigo didn't have a chance to ask. Tōsen reappeared carrying a bottle of amber liquid and three glasses. Whiskey; something Ichigo hadn't tasted before in either of his lives, and hadn't expected to. He hadn't even known you could get it in Soul Society. 

Tōsen placed the glasses on the small table, unscrewed the bottle, and poured about a quarter of an inch into two of them before pushing them towards Ichigo and Chad. "I cannot discuss any details with you, that is not my information to pass along. In fact, it may be better if Shinji doesn't find out that you know." He grimaced, putting the bottle on the table and sat down. "As you may have noticed, he's not fond of the noble families." 

"Bit of an understatement." Ichigo reached over and returned the favour, splashing the same amount of whiskey into the final glass. "Do what you think is right. Just, give us the heads-up before it all kicks off, okay? I don't want to get caught on the hop."

Tōsen opened his mouth to speak and closed it again a second later having said nothing. He pressed fingertips to his forehead for a long moment then sighed through his nose before finally saying, "If it is at all possible, I will. Though please do not take that as a promise. Shinji could make it difficult." 

He leaned forward and picked up his drink, dangling the glass between his fingers as he sat back. "However I can give you a little information about the boys from Ginzan. Most of them are fine. They're too low in reiryoku to be able to serve as proper shinigami, of course, but they've been alloted asauchi and I'll slide them onto the support staff as and where they're needed." The drink vanished in a single swig. Tōsen put the glass back on the table with a solid thud as he added, "And right now, they're most definitely needed. There is a lot of rebuilding to do at the 13th and will be for some time to come. 

"The most seriously ill boys are more of a problem. They're getting treatment and I'm hoping they'll pull through, though the damage is severe. They'd been there for too long."

"I don't know why they use kids at all," Ichigo grumbled, swigging his own drink. It burned on the way down, sending waves of heat up the back of his nose that made him want to choke. To cover watering eyes, he refilled Tōsen's glass and his own before sitting back with a discrete sniff. 

Chad was frowning at him like he'd said something wrong, so Ichigo said, "What? That stuff they dig up's got to be worse for growing bodies." 

"Definitely, but since the only adults available wouldn't be able to survive the conditions-" Tōsen began.

Ichigo wasn't having any of that. He slapped a hand down on the arm of his chair. "No way is there no one else out in Rukongai who could work those mines," he said. "Sure, they'd have to be small, but seriously."

"Small and have enough reiryoku," Chad pointed out. "A normal soul wouldn't last more than twenty years working in a place like that."

A familiar sense of helpless rage swept over Ichigo. He bolted to his feet, swung round behind the sofa and stalked across to the kitchen door. When he got there, he stopped and closed his eyes. Twenty years or more, trapped down that hole in the ground, slowly being poisoned to death. And knowing. Because they had to know. They had to. 

What the fuck was this place doing to its kids?

He swigged back his second whiskey, hardly feeling the burn this time around, and ground out, "Tell me Hirako's plans'll be ready to go soon, because I'm not sure how long I can keep living in this _shithole_ of a place." Temper exploded with the final words. He swung round, flinging the glass at the wall. It smashed loudly against the plaster, leaving a slight dent and a wet spray down the wall.

Ichigo stood there in the silence that followed, his thoughts in chaos. He should apologise, say something. Move, at least. But he couldn't. He just felt so fucking tired. He was trying his best to do what Byakuya had wanted; look after the 6th, be a good clan-head for the Shiba; but shit like this kept coming up! And every time, it was like - This! This is what you're a part of. This is what you've signed up to do. The Suehisa were nobles like Ichigo, and they owned Ginzan. The 9th were shinigami like Ichigo, and they made sure those kids were trapped. Everywhere he turned there were people like him doing unspeakable things and he was starting to break. There was a limit and he was reaching it.

Finally he managed to find some words. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he said, "Just tell me they don't bury them down there." 

"No. They'll definitely be outside for that." It was Chad speaking, and his voice was bleak. 

Ichigo glanced back over his shoulder just as Chad lifted his head and their gazes met. "What else don't I know?" Ichigo asked, his voice not much more than a whisper.

"The proving grounds," was Chad's only reply. 

Ichigo frowned. He'd heard that phrase before. Iba-neesan had mentioned it. Renji too. 

"When the boys at Ginzan camp grow too sick to work, that's where they'll be sent," Tōsen explained. "It's the final chance for anyone with reiryoku. Groups of them, mostly adults picked up during patrols, but also younger ones as well sometimes, are taken out to one of the more remote areas, given an asauchi and pitted against each other in battle.

"The rationale behind it is actually quite sound. Anyone with the potential to achieve shikai is more likely to do so if pressed hard enough. Of course, in reality, it's a slaughter. Most of them are cut down either by their opponent or the guards if they refuse to fight. Some few are good enough to attract the attention of onlookers and get picked up as pit fighters. I assume you were one of them, Yasutora, you and Jackie."

Chad's quiet, "Ah," fell like the lightest feather across Ichigo's mind. And yet it was still too much. His roar of pain and fury tore loose from somewhere so deep that it seemed to make the ground shake. Inside him, the hollow began to rise, that choking sensation in his throat like it was clawing its way out. Zangetsu, his hollowfied zanpakutō, still too much of an unknown quantity to risk it getting loose.

In self-defence, Ichigo dropped inward, landing sword in hand, already rising, braced for the impact of the other's blade when it hit. Wind lashed at his face. Rain slanted across a sky that didn't so much lower as boil around them. Beneath his feet, the ground was as slick as ice, but the glass and metal of the office building was gone. In its place was the white plaster and red tile of Seireitei, and beyond them, when Ichigo looked up, the sprawling geography of Rukongai. 

"King," snarled in his face. Zangetsu, horned and hollow. Was this how he'd looked on the outside? 

Ichigo parried, ducked a clawed fist, parried again, feet sliding back at the power of the blow. "What.. the hell… do you… want?" He was panting already. That wasn't good. They might have come to an arrangement the last time Ichigo was in here, but he had no idea if that would hold if he lost. 

"Fer you ta get yer head out yer ass and quit being a such fucking whiney baby!" Zangetsu bellowed, pressing and pressing. If he didn't back off, Ichigo was going to have to go shikai. And that was kind of sad.

"Ossan!" he called. The old man should be around somewhere. He didn't think Zangetsu would've eaten him. Probably.

 _Ichigo?_ The bass voice landed in his mind without bothering with his ears. Ichigo glanced wildly about between blows and glimpsed the dark figure of his Quincy spirit perched on the edge of a nearby building.

 _What's the hell's got into him?_ he asked, and not having to bother vocalising was really useful right about now. Gave him more breath to curse when Zangetsu got in a lucky strike, opening a wound down Ichigo's shoulder that might be shallow but hurt like a fucker.

 _You are distressed. That is causing changes to your inner world. Zangetsu is worried, and like a child, his fear manifests as anger. He really needs to learn to grow up._

"Who the fuck asked your opinion, Quincy!" Zangetsu roared, the wind whipping away his voice. 

_The one you acknowledge as king,_ Ossan replied, sounding a bit smug. Ichigo made a note to drop in again sometime when things weren't so screwed up, just to check these two weren't as close to killing each other as it sounded like they might be.

 _Your focus has changed, Ichigo,_ Ossan continued, _So have your priorities. Look at your world. Once it was full of towering dreams. Now it has shrunk to this single corner of possibility. I may not be fighting you as he is, but I understand his disquiet. Anything which limits you, limits us also._

Steel sang millimetres from Ichigo's throat. He threw himself backwards and slipped off the side of the building. Only a last minute lunge saved him, letting him catch the edge with his fingers. He hung there, glaring up through the rain at Zangetsu and, right behind him, the towering dark form of Ossan.

In the murk, they seemed to blur together for a moment, becoming something horned and cloaked, and the voice which rang in Ichigo's head carried both timbres, spoken in a dueting echo that followed him back out to the real world. 

_Don't narrow your gaze too much, Ichigo/King. A blinkered horse only sees straight ahead._

"Ichigo?" 

Something dark moved across the bright background of his sight. Ichigo blinked and the kitchen ceiling lurched into view. No, actually it was him lurching. Shit! An hand grabbed his arm and, for a second, it and world battled for Ichigo's equilibrium. The supporting hand won. Ichigo swayed back upright and blinked up at Chad, 'cause of course it'd been Chad who'd caught him. Chad was his friend.

"You okay?" Chad rumbled. He was frowning, looking worried. Ichigo patted at him, missed and tried to sit down. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Is it the whiskey?" Tōsen's voice came from behind him.

And shit, that might be it. He'd only had two drinks, but he'd swigged them back real fast and then gone straight into his inner world. Who the hell knew what that did to alcohol tolerance? Plus, he really should have eaten before he came out.

Somehow, with Chad's help, he managed to make it to a chair, and sank into it gratefully. He patted its soft upholstered arm, so much more comfortable than sitting seiza for hours. "I really wanna know where you got this?" he said, and the end of it came out embarrassingly slurred. He rolled his tongue around in his mouth a bit before adding, "I really miss the ones we had at home." 

Koji - no, Koniwa now. Koniwa would hate it, probably, but a nice three piece suite would look great in the big room. "And maybe a TV. That'd be great. And chocolate. I miss chocolate so much." And his friends and school. So many things. The tragedy of it took his breath away for a second, but Ichigo fought back bravely, sniffling a bit as he looked up at Chad. "I'm really sorry, man. I shoulda been there. Both times. I'm a shitty friend. Friends don't let friends die-"

"Ichigo." His name, but spoken as an absolutely unmistakable warning.

Ichigo blinked up at Chad who was staring at him disapprovingly again, and reviewed what he just been about to say. Shit. Okay, yeah, letting Tōsen know that he wasn't Soul Society born and bred was probably dumb. He really needed to sober up, and fast. 

Leaning forward until elbows hit knees, Ichigo laced his fingers behind his neck, clamped his mouth shut to stop anything else stupid escaping and tried willing the alcohol out of his system. The swirls on the carpet danced in front of his eyes, and he swallowed heavily because no way was he throwing up. Not from two whiskeys. That would be beyond embarrassing.

"I'll make some tea." Tōsen's voice, sounding more than a bit amused, was followed by footsteps moving away. 

Ichigo let himself relax a little bit, waiting for his reiatsu to work its magic on the alcohol in his body. For a while he just coasted, aware of Chad's bulk beside him but too befuddled to actually move or say anything. Or even think much beyond, 'for fuck's sake, shut up' and 'I wanna go home'. 

He'd not had that second feeling for a while now. Even when visiting Byakuya and Renji, he'd felt exactly that; a visitor in the living world. Karakura might have been his home town, but mostly he felt no urge to go back there. Sure he missed his life, but it was a vague longing, more like what he'd felt for middle school after he graduated than the harsh pain around losing mom. Seireitei was home now, with all its shitty policies and screwed up way of doing things.

A bowl of pale green tea appeared under his nose. Ichigo took it with slightly tingling hands and inhaled deeply. It smelt good, tasted better when he took a gulp, and reminded him of all the things those kids at Ginzan would never get a chance to sample. And all those people who'd ended up at the proving grounds.

His fingers tightened on the bowl. Fuck. Things really needed to change around here. Were Hirako and Tōsen on the right track with their revolution? Would it turn Soul Society on its head and make it a better place for everyone?

An image of Hisagi's gold and black eyes sprang to the forefront of Ichigo's clearing mind and with it, the reminder that Hirako was involved with Aizen. Was that creep a part of this? Ichigo needed to know, and there was only one way to find out.

Putting aside his empty bowl and feeling well on the road towards sober, Ichigo looked up to find Tōsen watching him with Hanatarō-like intensity from the other chair. The captain had his tea in one hand, while the other was across his mouth, partially hiding a faint smile. Byakuya did the same thing sometimes, when he was trying not to be amused at something Ichigo and Renji had done. 

If the revolution happened, would his lovers be able to come home? Would there be space in Seireitei for anyone with noble blood?

"This… thing with Hirako," Ichigo began, deciding it was probably better to avoid the word revolution. "Is Aizen Sōsuke involved?"

Rather than answer yes or no, Tōsen replied with a question of his own, "And if he is?" 

Ichigo's heart sank. Damn it, he'd known this was too good to be true! He scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"I can see from your expression that you disapprove. You felt the same way about Hirako until you discovered his true motivation, perhaps-"

"Hirako doesn't go around sticking hollow eyes in kid's heads for kicks," Ichigo accused, not caring that he'd spoken right over the top of what Tōsen was trying to say. "Aizen's a psycho."

"After what I said to you at Ginzan, I'm disappointed you'd think I would be party to something like that," Tōsen said. Sitting forward, he put the tea bowl on the floor and laced his fingers together between slightly parted knees. "Aizen did not do this for 'kicks' as you say. Hisagi was found wandering the streets, his eyes destroyed and face brutalised through some accident or, more likely, deliberate torture. Without immediate surgery, he would have died, however Aizen did not want to heal him, only to condemn him to something even worse.

"None of the divisions would have been interested in taking on a newly blinded shinigami, not when they needed soldiers for the frontline, and yet the boy already had shikai, so he couldn't be returned to the camps or simply hired as a servant. When Aizen picked him up, there was only one future for him if he lived, as an experimental subject. As I recall, the 12th was already expressing an interest, as was Urahara Kisuke."

Ichigo's belly twisted in memory of what Urahara had done to him. Would that have been better for Hisagi? Would it even have fixed his eyes, or would Urahara have used him for something else instead? 

Tōsen wasn't finished. "You have to understand," he said and pointed to his own nose. "I was lucky. Though I was born blind, as I grew, it became clear that my ability to sense reiryoku was much greater than most other individuals. With it, I was able to… compensate, to a certain extent, and develop fully as a shinigami. There was no chance of that for Hisagi. Aizen did what he did with the absolute best of intentions. Yes, the long terms effects haven't been all good, but Aizen's not as bad as you think."

Even if the rest was true, that was a step too far. "How the hell can you say that when you watched the guy kill all those people?" Ichigo demanded. "That whole family. Kyōraku's brother - it was Aizen who made him do it. You know that, you were the only witness."

Tōsen sat back with a shrug. "That's true. Aizen's crimes were terrible, but he was sent to prison. Isn't that punishment enough?"

"Maybe, if he'd actually served his time," Ichigo replied. "Central 46 let him out early because they needed his shikai for some war."

"He came out a changed man."

"Yeah, even more of a psycho," Ichigo muttered. "Seriously, I've seen him. He stuck the whammy on me, then screwed with my head so I wouldn't remember." Plus, there was Yuzu, and Byakuya had been positive he was behind what had happened to Renji, but Ichigo couldn't say any of that. Tōsen wouldn't believe him anyway. 

"You're a noble. Fair game in Aizen's world, I'm afraid. These days his hatred of the nobility goes even deeper than Hirako's."

Ichigo stared at him in total incredulity, "And you're still trying to argue that the guy's reformed." 

"Hm. Reformed is…" Tōsen frowned before continuing, "a complex concept. On the surface, an improvement in character or behaviour is something most people would agree is a good thing. And yet, if the identity of those making that judgement is taken into consideration, it can become somewhat less desirable."

Incredulity turned to confusion as Ichigo tried to parse what Tōsen was getting at. He hadn't got far when Chad, who'd been sitting there listening intently, chimed in with, "If Aizen was reformed in Central's eyes, he'd be in favour of the status quo, and he's not."

Tōsen inclined his head. "Justice is rarely absolute. Mercy, on the other hand, is. In my opinion, Aizen is reformed. He has learnt how to show mercy, like he did when he saved Hisagi's life. However his ability to apply justice is taking longer, especially around the nobility. It's unfortunate, but understandable considering they were the ones who sent him to Shugo."

"That's where… Renji was sent," Ichigo pointed out, just catching himself in time. He'd nearly said, 'Renji almost ended up,' and that really would have screwed things up.

"It is, and you won yourself no favours with Hirako by allowing it to happen," Tōsen replied flatly.

Ichigo sneered. "So the great revolutionary would rather Renji was dead than in jail. Yeah, that's really equal and everything."

"There are worse things than death, Ichigo." Chad again. Was he being taken in by this bullshit?

Ichigo's annoyance rose in response. "Yeah, you know, people keep saying shit like that, but I'm just not buying it. Dead is dead, there's no coming back from it. And sure, it's a trite as hell, but while there's life, there's still hope, so I'm saying living is better." 

"And if there's no hope?" 

Ichigo glared at Tōsen. "No such thing. There's always hope."

Tōsen nodded slowly. "You're young, and don't yet know, so I'll excuse you this time, Shiba Ichigo. But you should be told about Shugo." He settled back in his chair with the air of someone about to embark on a lengthy tale. "Did you know, for example, that there are no cells in that place, no bars on the windows, no locks on the doors. Not because the prisoners are trusted but because there are no windows or doors, nor rooms of any kind. There is simply space. Open empty space. There's clothing and bedding, one set per prisoner, but nothing to do except exist. There's water too, piped in once a day, but no guards to see that it's allocated fairly. No guards at all, in fact, except those stopping anyone from getting out."

Ichigo's skin began to crawl, but Tōsen wasn't finished yet. 

"Only the strongest and cleverest survive, by carving out a niche and protecting it with all of their might. They trample others underfoot, not because they want to or because they enjoy it, though some do, of course, but because they have no choice. Fight and win, and you get to drink and sleep for another day. Fight and lose, and you go without until you die of dehydration or madness steals your mind. Injuries, like the whipping Abarai was given, turn that prison into slow motion murder, not punishment. And Aizen was little more than a child when Central 46 locked him in there."

Now Ichigo did feel sick. He could imagine what would happen to a kid in a place like that, and really wished he could scrub his brain clean of the thoughts. "Why?" he demanded. "Why do that instead of having cells and bars?"

"Cheaper," Chad suggested.

Tōsen nodded, "And easier. The 1st can't spare the amount of personnel it would take to keep such a system running. It's simpler to seal away all the prisoners' power and leave them to their own devices. On the outside they get to call it justice. Of course, on the inside, it's the very opposite of mercy. It would be kinder to execute them."

"Fuck." Elbows on knees, Ichigo dropped his head into his hands, both fists clamping into his hair. This was what Renji had been so scared of, and why Byakuya had wanted him dead. He could see it now. Understand it, some. Though some part of him still wanted to argue that an execution would have been worse.

Than a slow death at the hands of thugs with nothing but time to kill and people to amuse themselves with? That was as bad as the 12th, and that was a fate worse than death, if you knew no one was coming for you.

But someone had come for Renji. 

"I'm sorry," Tōsen said. "If it's any comfort at all, destroying Shugo and releasing the prisoners is something very close to both mine and Hirako's hearts."

In other words, come the revolution, the prison gates would be opened and everyone would be free, including-

Ichigo sat up, eyes suddenly wide. "Is my father in there? In Shugo?" Because if he was, knowing what he knew now, Ichigo would have no choice but to go and rescue him. Whatever it took, whatever it cost.

"One of the True First, in Shugo?" Tōsen let loose a short sharp bark of a laugh that had absolutely no amusement in it. "Never. Your father may be a traitor, but that place is just for commoners, like Abarai and Aizen." 

He rose suddenly and fluidly to his feet, sending out so many pissed off vibes that Ichigo scrambled up too, Chad on his heels. Tōsen was still talking, his voice clipped as he said, "No, Shiba, if all you care about is your father, then you can rest easy. The noble traitor is safe in Muken, with his own cell and guards to keep watch over him."

"That's not…" Ichigo began, before shutting up again immediately. Because, of course, Tōsen thought Renji was still in Shugo. So from his point of view, Ichigo was some low down shit who didn't give a flying fuck about his lover, just about his noble father. 

Well, crap, because there was crap-all Ichigo could do or say to disabuse Tōsen of that idea. He certainly couldn't tell him that Renji was fine and living in Tokyo. Tōsen and Hirako might be after starting a revolution, but it hadn't happened yet, and no way was Ichigo putting Renji and Byakuya out on a limb just to stop Tōsen from giving him the stink eye.

The only thing he could do was leave. Dipping a small polite bow, he said, "Thanks. It's been an interesting evening, I erm…" Learnt a lot? That sounded completely off, but he felt like he had to say something. 

Tōsen was glaring at him like he was something trodden in on the bottom of a shoe. Ichigo tried for something else. "About the kids. Thanks. I'm glad you could do that for them. And we'll think about what you offered for Chad. Won't we." He jabbed an elbow in Chad's direction and found him already doing his thing. 

Bowing much lower than Ichigo had, Chad said, "I am very grateful, Tōsen-taichō. Your timely warning has potentially saved several lives including my own." 

That seemed to mollify Tōsen a bit. At least, he stopped glaring at Chad and kept the worst of his poisonous looks for Ichigo. If it got them out of this place without having to confess anything else, Ichigo could live with being a lowlife noble. It wasn't like he was a novice at the role.

They were out of the house about as fast as it was possible for Tōsen to get them there without actually picking them up bodily and throwing them. He closed the door firmly behind them, the road outside plunging into darkness as the light from the entranceway disappeared. 

Ichigo gave Chad a speaking look and the pair of them stepped together into shunpo, not stopping until they reached the wall running along the edge of the Shiba estate, a safe enough place to stop and talk. 

Landing on the top of the wall, Ichigo puffed out a relieved breath and, for a few moments did no more than watch the clouds of steam stir sluggishly in the cold air. Then he glanced up at Chad and said, "So?"

Chad shrugged. "Could be good, could be bad."

Terse but accurate. "The Aizen thing bothers me."

"Hirako as well. He likes power too much."

That was a good point. Then again, what was it Ossan had said? Stop looking at things so narrowly? Maybe what Ichigo needed to do was broaden his perspective to take in the likes of Hirako and Aizen. Even if it did feel 'off' somehow. After all he didn't have a shred of proof that Aizen had actually done anything wrong since he'd been released from prison, just a hunch that he was behind everything that had gone down with Renji and Byakuya.

What he needed was Byakuya's version of what had happened, and to get that, he needed to get back to the living world. Rukia was heading out to the Kyōraku senkaimon right now to see if the 8th's shinigami were still around. That should help cheer Byakuya up a bit. And Renji. Both of them could use it, that was for sure. 

Plus, when Ichigo did get to see them again, they'd have somewhere a bit more comfortable and private to make love than a futon in a hospital basement. 

In the meantime, he had a session of the Appointment's Committee to set up and a meeting to organise with the Suehisa about conditions at Ginzan. Hirako and Tōsen might look down on him for being a member of the nobility, but Ichigo was quite happy to use every scrap of influence that that bought him to make things better where he could. 

Revolution wasn't the only way to bring about change. Though, Ichigo thought, as he dropped off the wall and headed towards his comfortable, warm and well-lit house, it was almost definitely the quickest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tousen's description of Shugo in this chapter owes a lot to Lois McMaster Bujold's imagining of the Cetagandan prison camp in _The Borders of Inifinity._


	9. 21st Century Salaryman

First day on the job and life seemed hell-bent on kicking him in the balls. Straight-arming the door to the club open, Renji gave Byakuya, who still smelt of warmth and soapiness, a little shove towards the bar before turning hard right himself into the public toilets, currently the only place he could think of to get a wash and brush up. 

Closing the door behind him, he leaned heavily back against it, just breathing, thoughts a spinning mess of 'fucking sentō attendant!' and 'fucking jumped-up humans!' Faces, all sneering expressions and disapproving eyes, bubbled up in his mind and, a moment later, feeling no better, he jerked upright, stripped his hoodie and T-shirt off over his head and tossed them over the single stall door. They missed the top and slid down again, forcing him to lunge to catch them before they hit the tiled floor. It hadn't been mopped this morning meaning the stink of piss and alcohol still permeated the small space and no way did Renji want his only set of non-work clothes reeking like that. Bad enough he still had the white sticky residue from the tape all over the hoodie.

Ironically the near miss was enough to diffuse his anger, replacing it with a kind of resigned self-disgust. Putting the clothing safe, he turned to the sink, resting his palms on cool porcelain and blinked at his own reflection in the dimly lit mirror. The thin-faced crop-haired man looking back wasn't a stranger any longer, though Renji doubted many of the folks he knew back in Seireitei would recognise him. In a lot of ways he hoped they wouldn't. The nobility might have looked down on him but, amongst the Gotei, he'd been someone to fear and respect. Here, he was nothing, just a delinquent and a no-good thug, according to the old lady back at the sentō, the one who'd turned him away after clucking disapprovingly and tapping her finger against the list of rules on the wall, one of which said 'no tattoos'.

She'd cooed over Byakuya, of course, telling him to 'come right on in, young sir'. Renji had been halfway back out to the street before he realised Byakuya hadn't done as she said and was still right on Renji's heels. Then Renji'd had to stop and send him right back in again, since it was pointless both of them doing without a bath and Renji was good at roughing it. At least, that was what he'd laughingly told Byakuya as dull grey eyes stayed studiously averted from Renji's face, every part of Byakuya as obedient as it had been since this morning when Renji had found him sitting by the door watching him sleep. 

And that hadn't been creepy in the slightest.

A brief search for soap turned up the smallest sliver that smelt strongly of carbolic. Probably used to wash clothing, but Renji used it anyway, wanting to scrub away the looks he'd gotten outside the sentō as much as the sweat and dirt from yesterday. So he was scruffy and had tattoos, that didn't mean he was some kind of lowlife slacker. He'd prove it too, given half a chance. He'd done it before in the Gotei. How hard could it be to prove himself to these humans too.

Finishing up, Renji splashed a double handful of tepid water over his face and hair, then swiped his hoodie off the door. Using the fleecy insides to dry off as best he could, he added towels to his mental list of things they needed to buy with their first paychecks, along with a rice cooker to help bulk out the konbini meals Keigo had suggested they live on yesterday. Mizuiro had looked at Renji blankly when he'd mentioned supplies and the lack of cooking facilities, until Keigo had explained that his friend's string of girlfriends ensured he never went hungry. 

"Me, I buy bentō," he'd said, nodding sagely. "Cheap as chips and you can eat them right there in the shop. Even get them heated up in the microwave if you want. Dead useful when your house is full of thieving sisters."

Renji hadn't known what to make of that, but the meal Keigo had provided as part of his crash course in survival had been tasty, and filling enough while they were in gigai. And it had definitely been cheap, an important factor considering how little they were going to be earning. 

"To be fair, it's not a bad wage for casual labour," Arisawa-sensei had pointed out when Renji had met up with him to pick up the reiatsu glove and thank him yet again for all his help. "Free accommodation is a huge perk in that part of Tokyo. Most people would be spending half their income on a space no bigger than the one you've been given to use. You're lucky." 

Lucky or not, it was still frustrating. Renji had wanted to be independent from the get go, maybe even gift Arisawa-sensei back at least a portion of what he'd lost looking out for them. But there was no way he could do that for now. If it hadn't been for Mizuiro handing over a chunk of cash before he left yesterday, they'd not even be eating this week.

But, after the doc's little pep talk, Renji wasn't going to complain. Couldn't afford to complain. They might end up both jobless and homeless.

"Just keep our heads down and work hard," he muttered, pulling on the damp hoodie and, after a last check in the mirror, headed out into the bar.

Byakuya was sitting at one of the tables, a breakfast onigiri in hand with a single bite gone from one corner. Not exactly the sign of a healthy appetite, but Renji would take what he was given. At least Byakuya was trying. Taking a seat himself, Renji tapped the table in front of Byakuya with his forefinger as he sat down. "Come on, eat up. We gotta get moving."

For a second there was no reaction, then Byakuya frowned slightly, dipped forward and took another dainty bite from the onigiri. It was so careful and precise that Renji had to grin. The guy was a control freak even in the way he ate. Then a few grains of rice escaped, pattering down onto the tabletop and Byakuya made no attempt to stop them. 

Yeah, okay, maybe not so much anymore. Renji sighed and reached over, sweeping the rice up and swiping away a smear of miso from Byakuya's cheek with his thumb. "Look at you," he said, sucking his thumb clean. "If someone busted into this place right now, you'd be worse than useless."

That earned him a reassuringly narrow-eyed look. "I am perfectly capable of fighting," Byakuya said, and his voice sounded gravelly. Had he actually spoken yet this morning? Renji couldn't remember. He was probably right about the fighting though. Even mostly dead shinigami kept on fighting, especially the high ranking ones. It was instinct, honed over years of life and death battles. You stop fighting, you die.

"Yeah, but would you know not to kill them if they were human," Renji pointed out, upending the breakfast bag and sending its contents spinning across the table. A can of green tea rolled towards Byakuya and Renji waited for the inevitable thump as it fell off the table. It didn't come. Byakuya caught the can and stood it upright, giving Renji a self-satisfied look as if to say, 'See, you're worrying about nothing.' Renji would have been more reassured if he hadn't stood it upside down.

But there was no point in arguing about it. He tore open his own breakfast and was just about to get stuck in when a door slamming above their heads was followed by heavy footsteps on the stairs. A moment later Mendori, the guy with the mop from yesterday, appeared at the back of the bar. "Finally, you're freakin' back," he growled, lifting the counter-top door and coming out into the club. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Having a bath and getting breakfast. Why?" Renji demanded, bristling at the aggressive tone, especially from someone who cleaned floors for a living. Though today, Mendori had a suit jacket on over his shirt sleeves which made him look a lot less like the help and more like someone with clout. Had Renji misunderstood this guy's role in the set-up?

"Cause you're supposed to be here, that's why," Mendori replied. Flipping up his shirt collar, he draped a broad black tie round his neck and started tying it. "I dunno what they call security where you come from, but 'round here it means twenty-four seven. And you don't just waltz off without letting someone know you're gone."

"We're supposed to be here all the time?" Renji asked, gut sinking as his plans evaporated under the grasping heat of necessity.

Mendori paused briefly, levelling a disgruntled look at Renji before starting to dress again. "How you work it's your problem," he said, giving his tie a final flip and tug, and snugging it up under his chin. "But one or the other of ya needs to be here, in the club, all the time." As he finished, he grabbed a pair of sunglasses off the bar in front of him and slid them on. "Akio-chan's at meetings till midday, then she's having lunch with her father." He paused, sliding the glasses back down his nose and fixing Renji with a hard look. "Just a heads-up, oyabun uses this place when he wants to keep things low key. When he does, and I'll let ya know when it's going down. It'll be the full works: doors secured, no eavesdroppers and no trouble. Got it?" As he spoke, he reached over the bar and pulled out a well-worn black sheath that he tucked up inside his jacket. A katana. 

"Got it," Renji responded automatically as Mendori shifted from 'mop-wielding nobody' to 'somebody' in his head. The blade might have confirmed it, but it had been that title that alerted him. Unless things in the living world were very different from Soul Society, there was only one group of people Renji knew of who referred to their boss as 'foster father' and any lingering doubts as to who was running this joint vanished.

"And since ya gonna have some time on ya hands," Mendori added, opening the front door, "the bathroom could do with a clean. Mop's in the upstairs office." With that, he left, letting the door swing closed behind him. 

Silence fell. For a long moment, Renji couldn't bring himself to do anything except silently curse a blue streak. So much for taking care of things and making him and Byakuya a decent life. All he'd done was rip them out of the frying pan and thrown them straight onto the metaphorical coals. Fuck!

He savaged a large bite off the untouched onigiri and chewed furiously. Not that there was much point. The extra food had been to boost their reiatsu ready for training. He'd been planning on them heading for Karakura straight away and only being back by opening time at five. That wasn't gonna happen now. If they were lucky, they'd have one day free a week. 

Renji groaned, dropped the rice ball, and ran his hands across his head, scrubbing at his scalp in frustration. Shikai had never felt so far out of reach.

"You go," Byakuya said into the silence. 

"And leave you here on yer own? I don't think so," Renji snapped, raising his head to glare at him.

"It'll be fine. I can handle a mop-" Byakuya began.

Rather than argue, Renji reached out and very pointedly turned the can of green tea the right way up. Conversation over.

*

As the sun went down that afternoon, Byakuya followed Renji outside to officially begin work. They'd actually spent the day cleaning, first their small room, and then the bar and bathroom downstairs. The only other alternative was talking to each other and neither of them had much left to say. Byakuya still felt emptied out from his confession about Senbonzakura. In many ways, Renji taking control the way he had, had been a relief. It was the final nail in the coffin Byakuya had starting building that night back in Seireitei when he'd decided on this path. Resigning position and rank had only ever been the start, so Renji removing himself from Byakuya's control, and then turning the tables in the way he had, felt as inevitable and unstoppable as day following night.

All Byakuya had to do was submit, and he was finding that curiously easier than he ever thought possible. His entire life up until this point had been about control: of his emotions, his zanpakutō, his clan. Now all of those things were gone, and he was down to the bare bones of himself, scoured away and emptied out, ready to be refilled. It seemed appropriate somehow that Renji should be the one to hold the kettle and pour.

"Dreaming again?" Renji's voice penetrated his wandering thoughts and, along with it, came the sounds of distant music and laughter. 

Byakuya blinked at his surroundings. Instead of the grey dreariness he remembered from when they first came outside, lights of all hues now glowed against a matte black sky, and wherever Byakuya looked, more and more signs were winking on as bars and clubs returned to life. The streets in the immediate vicinity were still fairly empty but the hubbub of voices in the distance suggested things were getting busy elsewhere.

How long had he been day-dreaming this time? 

A couple of women in raincoats and scarves hurried past into the club, flashing membership cards at Renji who dipped a bow and murmured a welcome in response. Byakuya's gaze stayed on them until the closing door cut off his line of sight. Were they the first customers of the evening? He honestly couldn't remember. 

"Straight ahead," Renji said, nodding towards a group of men heading down the road. "Could be trouble, I reckon." There were about ten of them, taking up most of the pavement, all dressed in dark suits like their own. Around middle age, Byakuya thought, though he still found it difficult to judge. Humans didn't age like souls did and he felt a brief pang of understanding for Ichigo's inability to disconnect appearance from lived experience. Perhaps he'd been too hard on him. 

Of course he'd been too hard. And all in the name of what? Some ridiculous notion that his noble status would keep him safe. Rubbish, as Byakuya now knew. Not only did his own nobility not keep him safe, it had caused hurt to Renji too as Aizen had tried to force Byakuya's hand. If he hadn't clung so hard to his pride, he could have spared everyone so much hurt-

"Head's up!" Renji's voice. Byakuya shook himself into alertness again. The men seemed to have suddenly halved the distance between them, and they were moving fast, clumping together as though about to make a concerted charge on their position, and careless of those in their path. As people scurried out of their way with fearful backward glances, Byakuya found himself reaching for reiatsu, trying to form a kidō as he would have before. The power came to him, throbbing with potential, but then slipped away, blocked and subsumed by the gigai. 

For a second he hesitated, wondering where else in his repertoire he could go to take on these men when both kidō and sword play were out of bounds. 

Renji answered the question for him. As the men mounted the pavement and swept towards them, Renji stepped out from the club's entranceway, body relaxed but poised. Hand to hand then. But with no reiatsu to call on, hakuda could be more of a liability than a help. It was full of moves that relied on that extra speed and agility. The only other thing left was a fist fight. 

Byakuya hadn't been in one of those since he was a boy. Back then, his and Gin's sparring sessions often used to deteriorate into the type of grass-rolling scrabbling brawls that left both participants equally dirty and bloodied. Isshin, of course, had thought them hysterical. Kōga less so, and it was a simple matter to recall his painful lessons of disapproval. 

But there was no uncle here to chastise him. Nor, Byakuya realised with a start, remembering the blow Renji had landed on him back at the hospital, was there any imbalance in strength. Constrained by the gigai, he could punch a human as hard as he willed, and do no more damage than any other. The freedom of it was quite startling and he smiled as he stepped out to join Renji.

The men had kept coming, less than twenty feet away now, exchanging quiet words in short sharp flurries. One broke off, heading straight for them while the rest swerved in what could easily be a flanking manoeuvre. Renji turned to face them as Byakuya focused on the singleton, who suddenly reached into his inside jacket pocket.

Every muscle in Byakuya's body quivered in response. Beside him, Renji settled into his stance. They wouldn't attack first. Couldn't. Akio had made that very clear. Under no circumstances were they to start any trouble, but they were quite welcome to finish it if someone else was stupid enough to try.

Closer, closest. Still the hand was concealed and Byakuya found himself paralysed by the possibilities: a gun, a knife, acid or poison. Which would it be? How would he meet it? He couldn't decide. There were too many parameters, too much possibility for error. He stood frozen, trapped by indecision, and then it was too late. The man was close enough to touch, withdrawing something from inside his jacket. Blindly, Byakuya raised his hands, still not knowing how to respond and -

"Gorra a light?" A gust of beery breath accompanied the man's mumbled slur as the hand reappeared clutching a packet of cigarettes. Beyond Renji, the rest of the group passed by, nodding politely as they went and every scrap of violence was suddenly gone from the situation. What had been threat, now became routine. The intimidating group of thugs, no more than workmates out on the town, hurrying towards an unknown destination.

Hands falling back to his sides, Byakuya blinked at the man before him, utterly thrown by the turn of events. Geared up to defend, he wasn't sure how to handle this simple request for a match.

"A light," the man said again, a bit more clearly this time, though his eyes weren't focusing. In retrospect, he was obviously very drunk. "Left mine back at the office an'-"

"Here ya go." Renji leaned past Byakuya, a lighter miraculously in hand, and flicked it on, his other hand cupping the flame to keep it alight. The man leaned into it, lit his cigarette, then nodded his thanks as he moved off to join his friends further up the road. 

Once he was gone, Byakuya took a step back, then another, and was stupidly grateful to find the wall at his back. Thankfully, Renji didn't seem to notice. He was staring up the road after the retreating men. "Dude just wanted a light," he muttered, "It's a good thing we didn't go for them. Crap, that woulda been a mess." He shook his head, letting out a huffing laugh before turning to Byakuya. "You know, it's just possible we're a bit over qualified for this job."

Byakuya attempted a smile in reply, but in his head he was screaming. That wasn't true. Not anymore. What had he been thinking? He'd never frozen during combat like that. Never, in all his years. Even before he was a shinigami proper, he'd always -

No, that wasn't true either. There had been one time and place when he'd found himself equally unable to function.

That night, deep in the forest surrounded by the blood of his clan and with betrayal carved deep into his heart. After Isshin had tossed him away like so much trash, Byakuya had sat there pressed against that tree as the enormity of all that had happened crashed down upon him, and if his hand hadn't fallen on that particular spot in the grass, he may well have stayed there until someone found him. It had taken Muramasa's insistent hissings in his mind to drag him back from wherever he'd gone.

And now? He honestly didn't know. Like his willingness to submit when Renji had demanded it, this well of indecision was entirely alien.

" _You_ have got to be new. I'd remember someone of your size if I'd seen you before." 

The sound of a woman's well-spoken voice dragged Byakuya back from the forest in his mind to the concrete and tile of the Red Iris. Renji was standing at the edge of the entranceway, haloed by the lights behind him. But he wasn't alone. A tall woman with long curled hair was pressed up against him, palms resting on his chest as she gazed up at Renji's face with a predatory expression that reminded Byakuya of Yoruichi at her most daring. Renji had hold of the woman's upper arms and appeared to be trying to ease her away. She wasn't going and, as Byakuya watched, she rose onto her toes to whisper something in his ear. 

Whatever she said made Renji snort a laugh. His eyes cut to Byakuya and he said, "Sorry, I'm already taken."

Her gaze followed his, eyes widening only slightly when they fell on Byakuya. "I see," she said, and took a step back from Renji. As she moved, two other women came into view, standing further out in the street. Soberly dressed in neat trousers and jackets, they had an alert look to them of the kind Byakuya expected to see in his escorts. Bodyguards? That would make this woman someone important. She certainly looked as though she might be. Her hair was exquisitely styled and her clothing, though alien to Byakuya's eye, was very obviously well cut and, bright pink and purple check pattern not-withstanding, was of a design that balanced colour and line perfectly. The fall of lavender feathers at her neck seemed like overkill to him, but perhaps that kind of ostentation was fashionable in the human world.

Going by her expression, she didn't find his appearance anywhere near so prepossessing. With a delicate snort, she went to stalk past him into the club but, before she could, Byakuya caught her by the arm. "Membership card, please?" he asked, because whoever she was, Akio-chan hadn't mentioned anyone being exempt from showing one.

Her palm caught him across the cheek with a resounding smack. Byakuya recoiled, releasing his grip as the woman growled, "Just who the hell do you think you're talking to?" 

At any other time and place, she would have been cut down for daring to even lift a hand to him. But not here. Not now. Simple 'Byakuya' no longer merited that sort of protection. Not even from Renji, it seemed, though the fists clamped at Renji's sides and his quivering stance were comfort of a sort. 

"Well?" the woman snapped.

Byakuya stared at her. He was missing some vital clue here, something he was supposed to being saying or doing. 

What had Renji said last night? Something about keeping their heads down and playing human. And humans recognised relative rank in much the same way as shinigami, so yes, that was it. This woman was probably waiting for an apology, despite the fact that none of what had happened was their fault.

As he opened his mouth to try, the main door to the club suddenly swung open and one of the hosts, Lee - if Byakuya recalled correctly, peered out. Piercings glinted in the dim light of the entranceway and his dark eyes looked like bruises pressed into snow he was so pale. "Hey, I forgot to tell you, Mendori wants to see you-," he began, only to pause when he saw the woman. His mouth quirked up at one corner in what looked a little like relief, and he said, "You're here. Was getting worried. Thought for a bit there that you weren't coming." One thin finger rubbed the side of his nose as he spoke and he looked from Byakuya to the woman and back again. "Problem?"

"Don't be ridiculous," the woman snapped turning her glare on him instead. Freed, Byakuya glanced over at Renji, who had relaxed a little at Lee's appearance and was now was watching with narrowed eyes as Lee allowed the woman and her two companions, one of whom was carrying a briefcase, past him into the club.

As the door began to close behind them all, Renji said, "I thought membership cards were compulsory," and Byakuya knew that tone in his voice. Renji hated it when someone didn't give him all the facts and then blamed him for making a mistake.

Lee glanced back at them. "Not for Hanna-san, they're not," he said, then added with a smirk. "Reckon you'd better go see Mendori before you screw up even worse." 

Renji's calculating gaze followed the host inside. When the door closed, he snarled, "That little bastard did that on purpose. I bet Mendori gave him the message ages ago." With a final curl of his lip, he turned to Byakuya. "You gonna be okay out here alone if I go speak to him?" 

In all honesty, no, he wouldn't be, but going inside and keeping his focus on Mendori for an entire conversation would be just as difficult. Byakuya shook his head, unable to prevent his eyes seeking out the ground at Renji's feet. "I don't know," he said, hearing the shame in his voice, yet not able to bring himself to lie outright to Renji. "But I'll do my best." Though apparently doing that wasn't the right thing either.

"Okay. I'll- " Renji paused, and there was a scuffling of feet and cloth. When Byakuya looked up, Renji was hanging out the front of the entranceway looking one way and then the other. The street outside had become busier, though it still wasn't crowded. A second later, Renji swung back inside and said, "I can't see anything that looks like trouble so I'll go now. Be as quick as I can. Just- " He scrubbed a hand over his head, a habit that seemed to have replaced tugging on his braid, and grimaced. "Check membership cards before you let any women in, and if any drunk guys turn up, stall. Don't punch them out or anything."

Put like that, it all sounded so easy. Byakuya could only hope that no one else like this Hanna-san turned up. He nodded. Renji gave him one more concerned look, then disappeared inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. Byakuya closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, letting the aloneness wash over him, then walked to the front of the entranceway and took up his post. He might not be captain or Kuchiki any longer, but he was still shinigami and keeping watch over the human world was inscribed through his soul.

*

The music which greeted Renji when he stomped inside suited his mood perfectly. Heavy on the guitars and light on vocals, it resonated through his bones as he scanned the bar for any sign of Mendori or Akio. Or even Hanna, though he'd prefer not to run into her again. He had absolutely no desire to be ridden till he begged. He'd had quite enough of that recently from Byakuya, thanks very much.

Not spotting any of them, he headed for the bar where Nic was slouched chatting to a couple of women. Unlike most of those in the club, these still had their outdoor coats on, though Renji recognised them as having come in some time ago. Looking at them now, they weren't even listening to Nic's patter, seeming far more interested in the door to upstairs.

"Hey," Renji said as he drew close. "Mendori-san around?" Nic didn't pause, just jerked his thumb skyward with a wry smirk, which Renji took to mean he was expected. "Right. Thanks."

As he dodged behind the bar, one of the women complained, "How come he gets to go up there. I've been waiting almost an hour."

"Yeah, but you've had me to keep you company," was Nic's reply, and Renji couldn't help feeling that if he was those women, he'd be a bit pissy too, stuck listening to that bullshit for so long.

The edge faded from the music as he took the stairs two at a time until it was just a bass throb. Reaching the top, Renji turned into the hallway and was almost mowed down by a woman coming the other way. She shot past Renji, head down and hands clutching the front of her coat closed, and clattered down the stairs on heels way too high to make it safe. 

Renji paused and stared after her. Had she been crying? Because he was pretty sure he'd heard a sob as she ran past. And if she was, what the hell had gone down to cause it? If someone had touched her-

He stopped, clamping down on his rising temper, because this wasn't the 6th, and he wasn't a lieutenant any more. If she had been crying, it really was none of his business. Nothing here was. Just like most of what had gone on in Seireitei. He'd lived with turning a blind eye before, he could do it again, even if he did hate every minute. 

With a subvocal growl, he swung towards the office, only to find Mendori watching from the far end of the hall, arms folded across his chest and an annoyed frown creasing his large forehead. Damn, way to keep a low profile. Still, there was nothing for it now. He could always deny having seen anything.

"Thought you were queer?" Mendori said as Renji came closer. "Bit greedy chasing the ladies too, ain't it?" 

That was what he'd thought was going on? Since Renji wasn't about to tell what he'd actually been thinking, he took the easy option and answered truthfully. "Yeah, I do. That gonna be a problem?"

Unfolding his arms, Mendori gestured with an open palm. "Not ta me it ain't," he said, then a nasty smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Bet princess don't like it though."

He had to mean Byakuya. It was kind of amusing that even in human clothes and a gigai, people seemed to recognise his nobility. Except, Mendori didn't seem to mean that. Going by the tone of his voice, 'princess' was supposed to be an insult, though Renji couldn't see how. Being a member of the royal family was a step up even for a Kuchiki. Honestly, humans made no sense.

Rather than making an issue out of something he didn't understand, Renji brought the conversation back to his reason for being there. "Lee said you wanted to see me."

Mendori snorted, his expression turning sour. "Bit late now innit." He jerked his head towards the closed office door from where Renji could just hear raised female voices. "She's got her panties in a right twist over ya boy laying hands on her. If ya'd come up when I said to-"

"I know. I'm sorry." Renji dipped an apologetic bow or two, because sure, it wasn't actually his fault, but squealing on Lee the first night on the job probably wouldn't go down well either. Better to just suck it up and get any punishment over with. It was a methodology that'd served him well in the past. 

When he came up, Mendori's arms were folded again, though his expression looked marginally less annoyed than before. "Ya got manners, then. Nice ta see."

Renji went down again, just to be on the safe side, and stayed there for an extra beat. This time when he stood, Mendori looked a lot happier. 

"Better. Right, while ya here, let's clear the rest up." Mendori gestured to the walls. "This place belongs to the Kutsuzawa family and, as family, Hanna-san is allowed in any time she wants, day or night. No cards, no questions."

Family? Renji licked suddenly dry lips. "I had no idea-" he began.

Mendori waved him off. "Yeah, that's why I sent that idiot Lee out to get ya. Course he couldn't just do as he was asked, could he, trouble-making little shit. But just so ya know, she's oyabun's youngest. Akio-chan's little sister."

Crap. Byakuya had tried to stop a yakuza boss's daughter from entering her family's place of business. It was a wonder he still had a hand, though it'd been a close thing. One of the women who'd been guarding Hanna had definitely been carrying a weapon. Renji had seen her go for it when Byakuya grabbed her mistress. If he'd reacted at all to that slap…

"I can see ya understand what a fuck up ya made, and that's good." Mendori jerked his head at the office door. "Now get ya ass in there and convince her." 

Something that was very probably fear rolled through Renji's gut. "In there?" he asked, pointing the same way.

"That's where the lady is," Mendori replied. His smirk had turned evil again. Renji decided he hated the guy.

Swallowing hard, he stepped forward and knocked on the door. Silence fell, then a woman, it sounded like Akio-chan, said, "Enter."

*

It was over an hour before Renji returned. By then Byakuya was getting frantic and that feeling was starting to bleed over into his interactions with the clientele. He was short and more than a little impolite, hurrying them through the doors and following them a few paces in to see if he could spot Renji coming out. When Renji did finally reappear, it was all Byakuya could do not to throw himself at him to check he was all right. As it was, he contented himself with a visual once over. Renji didn't seem to be hurt, there were no bruises and he wasn't walking stiffly. Though he wasn't making eye contact.

"What happened?" he asked as soon as the door closed and they were alone. Or as alone as they could be tucked into the little entranceway on a busy street.

Renji shrugged. "Nothing much." He grinned, but it only took on one side of his mouth. "Turns out she's the boss's other daughter. Who knew, huh? Anyway, she wanted an apology, so I gave her one."

"For an hour?" Recalling the way the woman had fawned all over Renji, Byakuya feared what that apology might have cost. "Did she…" He had no idea how to ask. "Assault you?" he tried.

A sharp bark of laughter met that suggestion. "You know, I kinda wish she had. Would've been a better way of spending an hour than kneeling on the floor playing footstool while -" Renji cut himself off mid-flow. "Anyway, no. You don't have to worry about that. I'm fine."

Relief flooded through Byakuya, for Renji, he told himself, though he couldn't help the pang of jealousy that followed hard on that thought's heels. The idea of that… His brain stumbled to find a suitably derogatory term… That harlot, touching what was his - but no. Renji didn't belong to him, not any longer. And in all honesty, Byakuya was in no position to throw accusations at anyone for what they might do. To his eternal shame, he himself was far from being innocent recently when it came to taking what Renji hadn't freely offered.

And now? After everything he'd done, Byakuya would be lucky if he ever got to touch Renji again. 

"…drifted off? Byakuya? Byakuya!"

The sharp snap in Renji's voice as he called his name brought Byakuya to with a start. He blinked back to reality and stared around in shock. At some point it had started raining, and not recently either going by the wet glistening on the pavements. 

The world had moved on without him again. But why? He'd been fine while Renji was inside the club. Worried, of course, but not unfocused. Did having Renji beside him really make that much difference to his state of mind? That was ridiculous. He couldn't possibly be so reliant on Renji that his mere presence made him shut down. 

And yet, here was the evidence.

"Back with us?" Renji again.

Byakuya forced his mind to focus. "Yes, sorry, I-" he began, and then ran out of words. He had no idea how to go about explaining, 'I function better when you're not here'. If it made no sense to him, it would surely make no sense at all to Renji. "I'll try harder," he said instead.

This time Renji's grin was just worried. "Good job no one started anything while I was gone, I guess." Hauling his hands out of his pockets, he stretched hard, his back popping as his arms reached high above his head. Byakuya watched in appreciation, not only for the pure of sight of it, but also because Renji could now move so easily. It was proof conclusive that he was properly healed from the whipping. 

And what about all the rest of the damage, the loss of Zabimaru and every scrap of agony that had followed? Entirely Byakuya's fault, and with every passing day all he ever seemed to do was add to it instead help.

*

Chad was off securing the room for the Suehisa representative and Ichigo halfway dressed in his civvies when the knock came at the door. Pausing with hakama ties stuffed in his mouth, Ichigo did a quick sweep with his reiatsu to see who was there. Steady pale blue told him it was Koniwa. Ichigo spat out the ties, called, "Come in," and was busy tying them when the door opened.

"Good morning, Shiba-sama," Koniwa said as he entered. He was carrying a small sheaf of letters. Answers, hopefully, to the invites Ichigo had ordered sent out a few days ago. 

"Got some good news for me?" he asked, holding out his hand. 

Koniwa handed the documents over. "Surprisingly, yes, sir." 

Ichigo flicked through them, noting signatories on all the replies. Yoruichi was coming. No real shock there. Despite their falling out, she was bright enough to understand what Ichigo hadn't about the appointments committee, until Aikawa had told him anyway. Having said that, so should all the other clan-heads, and yet there was the polite worded refusal from the Towa. Ichigo dropped that sheet onto the bed and looked at the next. 

Kyōraku had said yes, and he'd even suggested a date.

Ichigo briefly closed his eyes in sheer relief. He'd been seriously worried that Kyōraku was preparing to wash his hands of everything Seireitei, especially after running into all those shinigami out at the estate. Did that mean they were gone now? Rukia had said not when she'd returned a couple of days ago, but maybe it was worth sending her out again. With the letters this time. If she could get through then Renji and Byakuya would finally be able to move into their new digs.

Comforted by that thought, Ichigo turned back to the letters. The final one was an _acceptance_ from the _Kuchiki_. Now that was one hell of a shock! When Ichigo had originally gone to them after Byakuya's so-called treason, he'd come close to getting thrown off the estate. If the whole place hadn't been in such an uproar, with no one prepared to take charge, he probably would have been. As it was, he'd ended up giving Byakuya's letter and the kenseiken to Saito, the head guard, and leaving the family to fight it out amongst themselves. Since then, all he'd heard was that they'd come up with a successor for Byakuya but that he was too young to take a seat on anything official. 

Being as how even 'kids' in Seireitei mostly had more experience than he did, Ichigo had assumed that was just a way for them to save face in public until the blame game was over and all the compensation payments made. Did that mean it was done? He guessed so if this new Kuchiki clan-head was finally getting an airing. And that seemed to be what the seal at the bottom was suggesting. Maybe. 

He squinted down at the ornately calligraphed kanji, trying to work out what the name might be, if it was one. The second could be 'to', but then again, he might be wrong. It had a lot of strokes. Any reasonable set of people would have used furigana to help out, but no, this was the Kuchiki. Giving people a helping hand might give the family peasant cooties or something. 

Giving up in disgust, Ichigo flipped back to Kyōraku's reply, skimming it again for details. Hmm, 'suggestion' might have been an over exaggeration. What Kyōraku had actually said was that he was free on Wednesday, no other options given. The intimation being, do it then or not at all. Maybe Ichigo had been overly optimistic about Kyōraku's continued investment in the process. 

Then again, would it matter if they had a Kuchiki now? After all, it only took three clan-heads to make the committee quorate.

"Will there be anything else, my lord?"

Ichigo blinked up at Koniwa, who was still standing there, apparently waiting for Ichigo to tell him to go. Koji would have bowed himself out by now. He was good at doing things like that. Shin, on the other hand, would have said something to remind Ichigo he had company. It was a timely reminder that everyone was different and that a replacement couldn't always be counted on to be the same as their predecessor.

"What d'you know about this new Kuchiki?" Ichigo asked.

Koniwa frowned, dipping his chin as though in deep thought. At one time, his long hair would have slipped forward over his shoulder, but that was tightly restrained now, up in a queue on the top of his head. "In truth, very little," he said finally, which Ichigo took to mean, 'nothing that came from reliable enough sources to pass on', since everyone knew that Koniwa was a horrible gossip.

"I'm not gonna hold you to any of it," Ichigo said. "Just give me a few clues."

A shifty expression passed over Koniwa's face, "I know he's young, and that they had to have changed his name because there hasn't been a Kuchiki called Yoshito for a very long time."

That was the name? Seriously, fancy kanji were such a pain. When nothing else seemed forthcoming, Ichigo said, "Okay. That seems reasonable. I mean, going by mine and dad's names, and his dad's too, using 'ichi' is kind of traditional for Shiba sons, so if the kid wasn't born to the main branch-"

"You're right, it is the same for the Kuchiki. They use colours, white, blue, silver, gold, all the way back, except for the first Kuchiki, Yoshito."

Now Ichigo remembered where he'd heard the name before. Byakuya had mentioned it several times during his attempts to teach Ichigo the history of the True First clans. "Wasn't he some kind of warlord?" And would Ichigo be wrong to see that as a really bad omen?

Koniwa hummed agreement. "He was. Legend has it that he conquered half of what's now called south Rukongai."

"Right, then he married the Soul King's daughter." Hang on, didn't Uryū say something about the Soul King's daughters when he was talking about the Quincy? And, "Who the hell _is_ the Soul King anyway?"

Aghast horror flashed across Koniwa's face. "The greatest of all of us. The all-seeing eye. The one who ensures that everything remains true to the balance." The tone of his voice left Ichigo in no doubt that he'd severely disappointed his ex-third seat by even asking the question. 

Trouble was, his answer had told Ichigo absolutely nothing. So, at the risk of disappointing Koniwa still further, Ichigo said, "He's a shinigami then?"

That won him a blank look. "A shinigami, sir? I don't… " Koniwa stopped speaking and his tongue darted out wetting lips that had apparently gone dry. "What else could the King of Souls be if not a shinigami?" he continued after a long pensive moment.

How about a Quincy, Ichigo thought, though he wasn't about to say that out loud. Koniwa would probably stroke out from the shock, then Ichigo would have to find yet another house steward and he was rapidly running out of people to draft. Instead, he smiled his most reassuring smile, clapped Koniwa on the shoulder and said, "Never mind that for now. What I need to know is, how quickly can you organise a meeting for four clan-heads plus hangers-on?"

*

"Are you sure he said Wednesday?" Yuzu bit at her lip nervously. The timing of all this couldn't be worse. It was the first week of February. New Year was rapidly approaching and it falling a month later here than at home didn't stop her from having a whole raft of things she needed to prepare. Not to mention she was due at the 4th that particular Wednesday and there was no way she could skip it. Tsukishima-sensei was expecting her and he'd tolerate no excuses.

Rami dipped into a bow and held it, though her voice bristled when she replied, "Positive, my lady. The meeting is scheduled to start at five and there's no specific finishing time." 

Her training wasn't due to end until five, which would leave nii-chan without a hostess on an important occasion when all his focus should be on business, not whether the food was cooked properly. That was completely unacceptable. It was a matter of pride that any visitors to the family home received absolutely the best. 

Then again, nii-chan must have got by before, when she'd been at the 4th for all those months. He might not have been hosting clan-heads, but there'd been other visitors like cousin Kūkaku and her husband. Yuzu knew because he'd told her, so maybe she was worrying for nothing.

Yes, that was it. She was anxious about something else, and all that worry was getting tangled around this meeting. 

But it was such an important meeting. She really should be there. Tsukishima-sensei had reminded her that the best way for her to fit back in with her family was to get more involved with the clan and the division, and missing this felt like she'd be missing something vital.

And the meeting of the clan-heads wasn't the only one. 

Her gaze cut towards the end of the walkway where the study door was closed firmly against all-comers. Nii-chan was in there with a representative of the Suehisa, or so Take had said when she'd returned empty-handed from trying to pick up the lists of groceries for the 6th. Yuzu hadn't known such a person was visiting. 

By nature, Yuzu wasn't one to cry 'unfair!' but still, a disheartened feeling swirled around in her belly. She understood there were things at the 6th that she couldn't know about, but this was her home, her family. If important things were happening, shouldn't she be told? Shouldn't she be included?

"If that's all, my lady?"

Yuzu dragged her focus back to Rami, who was watching her expectantly, waiting for a dismissal. Luckily this was something Yuzu had learnt to handle at the 4th. Forcing a bright smile onto her face, she said, "Yes, I'm sorry, thank you. Unfortunately I have a prior appointment that day, but I'm sure you and Koniwa will handle it perfectly."

Dipping another bow, Rami murmured a semi-polite, 'my lady' and scurried off back towards the kitchens. Left alone on the walkway, Yuzu hesitated. There were medical texts she should be reading, not to mention a myriad other tasks here and at the 6th which were now her responsibility, but she still couldn't quite make herself leave without knowing what was going on in the study. 

From here, if she strained her ears, she could just hear their voices. An unknown male sounding agitated and nii-chan, his tone solid and uncompromising like it was when he had a point and wasn't going to shift from it. 

But what could they be discussing? To Yuzu's knowledge, the Suehisa were a minor clan who owned several potteries and associated businesses out in Rukongai, and that didn't sound like nii-chan's sort of thing at all. 

It was no good, she just had to know. Boards creaked slightly beneath her feet as she crept down the walkway. Not to eavesdrop, not really. 

The door was in front of her now, within touching distance. Inside, the conversation had dropped to much quieter levels, meaning that if she really wanted to hear anything, she'd need to press her ear to the door. A quick glance left and right proved the walkway still conveniently free of servants. Yuzu took the final step and leaned forward. Now the voices were clear. Now she could hear exactly what they were discussing.

"… negotiating a repurchase price, if that's the only way you can see this moving forwards." 

"Frankly, Shiba-sama, I don't see an alternative. What you're asking for is-"

Then someone spoke, directly above her. "Listening ta something good?"

Yuzu squeaked and leapt about half a foot off the ground. "I-I-" she stammered, heart still thundering in her chest as Shin swung down out of the roof space and landed with a thud on the walkway. Seeing who it was, she relaxed enough to let out a guilty little giggle. "Ah, you caught me," she said. "I'm going out and hoped to say goodbye to nii-chan before I went, but of course he's busy. I thought maybe I could wait for a break in the conversation and then knock."

Shin's expression was flat, offering no clue as to whether or not he believed her. He probably did. After all, she was Ichigo's sister, what reason would she have to lie? Finally he nodded and said, "Then I guess we're both 'ere for the same thing." His eyes flicked to the door. "Need to have a word with his lordship meself."

That was when Yuzu noticed that Shin's servant's blues had gone, replaced with a labourer's plain brown. Likewise, his hair which had been tied back in a queue, was now cut close to his scalp. He looked like a common workman. 

The question escaped before she could stop it. "What happened to your clothes? Don't you work here anymore?"

Shin's eyes widened and he looked down at himself as if surprised to find them changed. "Yeah, course I do. It's just-" His mouth pinched shut for a long second before he finished a bit sullenly, "The job description's different these days is all."

Oh dear. Yuzu had wondered what Shin's role would be now Koniwa had taken over as steward, and by the sounds of that, he wasn't happy. "I'm sorry," she said. "If you like, I could put in a good word for you with my teacher. He's helped a lot of servants from noble households who've fallen on difficult times." 

Shin's expression went blank again, then he bowed deeply. "Thank you for your kind offer, my lady, but I'm very happy working for Shiba-sama right now.

That brought a smile to Yuzu's face. For some reason, the thought of handing Ichigo's servant over to Tsukishima-sensei sat uncomfortably with her. Which made no sense. Tsukishima-sensei would have definitely found Shin a good job, like he had with Hanzaki who used to work for the Towa. He was out in Rukongai now, managing a farm.

"I'm glad," she said. "So what does he have you doing? Not anything too disgusting, I hope."

Shin sighed. "Not as such, no, though I've reached a bit of a dead end on one thing he asked me to do." He glanced up at her, face suddenly lighting up. "Oh, hey, you're some kind of healer, ain't you. Maybe you'd know where to get this stuff from." He fished inside his sleeve and pulled out a white earthenware pot with a cork lid which he offered to Yuzu. "He's after some more of this and, well, I asked around some but no one's got a clue, see. Best I got was it mighta come from south Rukongai."

Taking the little pot, Yuzu examined it curiously. There was no makers' mark, though it was well made, which lent credence to the idea that it might come from the south. One of the higher districts at a guess. Several of the potteries which supplied the 4th were based down there. She eased the cork out. Inside were a few smears of pale green cream that smelt faintly of aloe. There was also another scent, something cool and smooth that tugged on almost forgotten memories of efficient but kindly hands that bandaged a little girl's cuts when her mother was no longer there to do it.

Ryūken-jichan. Yuzu smiled to herself and took another sniff of the cream. Again, she felt a pang of nostalgia for her missing uncle. Whatever this cream was, it must share a common ingredient with whatever he used to use to cause a reaction like that. 

"So, you reckon you might be able to track it down then?" Shin asked.

Yuzu glanced up and gave him a sunny smile. "I shall certainly do my best!" she said. And her first stop would be Tsukishima-sensei. He was bound to have some good ideas about where to start.

Funny then that all she felt like doing was breaking down in tears.

*

Despite the shutters being closed, a chill wind still crept into the walkway. Ichigo bit back a sigh and forced himself not rub at his temples as Suehisa Noifumi went on and on about the long-standing relationship between their respective clans and how he hoped this wouldn't change anything. Ichigo tried to tune him out, only giving up the odd grunt in places where he really didn't have much of a choice. Up until his guest left, he was supposed to be clan-head guy, all stoic and immune to pain and suffering and stuff, but that wasn't stopping his head feeling tight and his shoulders like someone had strung rocks through them.

When the doors finally closed behind Suehisa, he slumped against the wall with undisguised relief and groaned, "Well, that coulda gone better."

Chad stepped round the corner of the house, where he must have been hiding to avoid the inanities of that final conversation, and raised a curious eyebrow in Ichigo's direction. With a wave of his hand after the departed noble, Ichigo answered the unasked question. "Apparently improving things at Ginzan would make the place nonviable or some such crap. I dunno, I never did business studies." He paused before adding a heartfelt, "Kinda glad I didn't if it gives you that kind of attitude." 

Chad grunted in what Ichigo took to be vehement agreement, since his electives had all been music based. Not that he'd had a chance to take many. He'd been dead by halfway through the first year of senior high. Summoning up a bit more energy, Ichigo pushed off the wall and headed back into the office. At least it was warmer in there. "Guess I'm gonna have to learn though, since I just paid a small fortune for the place."

That actually startled words out of Chad. "You bought it?" he asked, following Ichigo inside and closing the door.

Ichigo grinned back at him. "Yep. As of all the paperwork getting completed, Ginzan silver mine and metal works will return to Shiba hands." His smile faded as the enormity of what he'd just done began to sink in and he grabbed Chad's arm. "Shit, what the hell am I gonna do with a mine? I don't know the first thing about running something like that!"

"Find someone who does," Chad replied sounding amused, the bastard. But, yeah, that did make sense, except Ichigo didn't know anyone who knew anything about mining, did he?

"Kūkaku," he said, at the exact same moment as Chad said, "Your cousin." 

"Huh, great minds," Ichigo quipped. Dropping down onto the cushion behind the desk, he folded his legs in front of him tailor style and wondered briefly how difficult it'd be to get a hold of a sofa like Tōsen's. "It'd mean getting the Omaeda involved."

Chad shrugged, taking the cushion opposite. "They seem okay."

"Now Kūkaku's decided you're not available."

He'd meant it as a joke, but it earned Ichigo a faint grimace, which immediately made him feel bad. He shouldn't tease Chad about shit like that. Stuff had happened while he'd been in Iba-neesan's hands that Ichigo didn't even want to think about, let alone remind his best friend of. "Hey," he began, meaning to apologise or something. 

"Her husband seemed okay," Chad said, robbing Ichigo of his chance.

Ichigo kind of gaped at him for a second before sputtering, "Okay! We talking about the same guy here? Fat, dresses like a christmas tree, doesn't know one end of a sword from the other?"

Chad just levelled one of those 'you're being an idiot' looks that Ichigo remembered so well, at him. "You said he took your cousin in when she was broke and had nowhere else to go, and that he treated her with respect. Someone who does that knows there's more value to a person's life than what they can earn for them."

Good point. Ichigo propped his elbow on his knee and rubbed at his lips. "You think he'd care about the kids though? He's noble, and Kūkaku doesn't seem care about anything outside Seireitei either." But Ganju did, though Chad didn't know about that, of course. And Ganju had been brought up in the Omaeda household, so he must have picked up the ability to care about others from someone.

Had he picked up anything about mining too? Ichigo didn't much like Ganju personally, the guy was an ass who reminded him way too much of dad, but a potential solution to several problems was starting to take form in Ichigo's brain. One that involved Ganju, Ryūken, and the kids dying of whatever poisoning out at Ginzan.

"It might provide an alternative to Tōsen."

Ichigo blinked up at his friend. Tōsen? Oh right, Chad's shikai problem. He sat up. "You're right." He hadn't been going to get Chad involved, since he still didn't know about Uryū and Ryūken, but if he was going to have to leave anyway, then it might as well be to somewhere they knew. Plus, it would mean that Ichigo could stay in contact with him, which was more of a relief than Ichigo would like to admit.

"We'll sort it, after this damn appointments committee meeting on Wednesday," he said, because he was going to need Chad for that. As moral support if nothing else.

Chad nodded, then in one of those non-sequiturs of his said, "Shin was here," and held out a tightly rolled piece of paper, sealed with a scrap of what was probably candle wax going by the colour. It was also grubby and some of the ink had leaked through from inside. 

Ichigo took it tentatively and with a raised eyebrow.

"He wanted to see you but he couldn't wait, so he asked me to give you his report." 

Remembering Shin's confession about his poor level of literacy and wondering what the hell he was going to find, Ichigo unrolled the tube of paper and squinted at the writing. Most of it was in kana, which was fine, though the few words that weren't looked like they'd been copied rather than written properly. It didn't matter. Scanning it quickly, Ichigo knew that Shin had done exactly what he'd asked of him. He was working for the Izumi medicine shop, only casually at the moment, but he had hopes of getting in closer. He'd also connected with Kaito, and reckoned the kid trusted him. 

That was good to hear. If the shit hit the fan, Ichigo needed to know that Shin would be able to Kaito to safety. In fact, the only thing Shin hadn't managed to do was find more of the cream that Ichigo had given him. 

"He also said to tell you that he gave the pot to Yuzu," Chad added, his expression studiously disinterested. 

Ichigo refused to bite. Chad would find out soon enough. "Right. I was wondering about that." And actually it was a good idea. Yuzu had to have loads of contacts with the types of people who supplied medicines. He should probably have tried her first, before asking Shin. Except Yuzu would have wanted to know what it was for and where it came from and Ichigo was totally crap when it came to lying to his sisters. Before he knew, he'd have spilt the beans about Ryūken and Uryū and that way lay potential disaster. For starters, Karin would kill him, since he'd promised to keep Yuzu out of it until everything was above board and legal.

And maybe Ginzan was the way to achieve that. If Ryūken could fix those kids, heal the damage the mercury had done like he'd healed Rikichi, maybe then people would believe Ichigo when he told them that not all Quincy were evil.


	10. Artificial Flight

"We're ready, I reckon," Ichigo said, peering through the door into the new meeting room, the one they'd mashed together from three other rooms, driving Yuzu to screaming point in the process. "Everything good to go at your end?" He didn't expect much of an answer and, true to form, Chad just grunted. 

Nervously, Ichigo slid the door further back. Or should he say, one of the doors. There were four of them altogether, one on each side of the perfectly square room and each painted with a clan insignia. They matched the four floor cushions set around the large circular table borrowed from Kūkaku specially. Beyond that, the room was plain, with not a flower arrangement or hanging scroll to be seen. If they'd done it as right as Ichigo hoped, none of the visitors could claim they had a lower seat than anyone else.

It'd been Karin's idea originally, after Koniwa had declared it impossible to formally seat all four True First clan-heads without insulting anyone. There was age to take into account, he'd argued, and seniority, and Ichigo's position as host. Not to mention whether Kyōraku even qualified to be seated with the others at all, since his clan were only counted as True First on a technicality. 

Karin had listened to all that and then said, "So do what that English king did to stop his nobles fighting," after which she'd pointedly moved all her things into Ichigo's office for the duration. It'd been left to Ichigo to explain what she meant but, credit where it was due, Koniwa had taken the concept and run with it. 

The downside of the design was excess formality. The room felt about as far from the cosy intimacy of their last meeting at Yoruichi's palace as it was possible to get. No kotatsu, only braziers in the corners, which meant everyone was going to have cold feet, and with the lack of decoration the whole vibe was more war council than friendly gathering. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and these were definitely desperate. Even if they couldn't agree on final appointments tonight, they had to at least set up a schedule for meetings in the future. If they failed and word got out, all hell was going to let loose in Seireitei.

"There's not going to be any problems," Chad said, in that totally rooted way he had, and Ichigo felt some of his worry unravel. You could build houses on that kind of belief. He still wasn't sure how he was going to manage without it.

"I know," Ichigo replied. 

"My lord, Kyōraku-sama is arriving."

Ichigo turned to find Rami's husband, Unshō, out on the walkway, bowing deeply. He was dressed as a footman for the evening. "Who'd he bring with him?" Ichigo asked. 

"Only Ise-sanseki, my lord, and a small escort who have stayed out in the street."

Relief at that news helped settle more of Ichigo's butterflies. If Kyōraku had brought Ise, he had to trust Ichigo not to go all Quincy attack mode on him. He nodded at Unshō. "Thanks for the heads-up. You can go help the others now."

Another dip, a murmured, "My lord," and Unshō scurried off towards the rear of the house. To the kitchens probably. Yuzu had spent the best part of the last couple of days slaving away in there, making sure everything was ready for this evening. Too long probably since, when she'd left this morning, she'd had dark circles under her eyes. 

Guilt twinged in Ichigo's belly. He hadn't had the heart to tell her that his original plans hadn't included serving food at all. Now he was glad that they did, since he'd been too busy to eat lunch and was now starving. Maybe he could suggest they ate first, before the meeting?

No, they needed to stay focused on business. "Right," he said, bouncing a little on his toes. "Let's do this."

With a firm nod, Chad stepped back out into the corridor. He'd only just closed the door behind him when the one opposite, painted with a stylised sheaf of rice, slid open and Koniwa, in his steward's best, announced, "Kyōraku Shunsui-taichō-sama." 

Rank _and_ title. That matched up with Kyōraku bringing his third seat as a personal guard, and put a less positive spin on it too. At a guess, Kyōraku was feeling out-numbered by the real True First clan-heads and was feeling the need to emphasise his extra qualification. Now, would it better for Ichigo to do the same, or downplay his rank like he'd intended. Damn it, Koniwa would know, but Ichigo had no way of asking. 

Bracing into a smile, he stepped forward as Kyōraku ducked into the room. 

The first time Ichigo had met this man, he'd been awed by his sheer presence and, honestly, that had never changed. From his cropped salt and pepper hair to his meticulously neat uniform, Kyōraku exuded authority like he was born to it. He was the perfect upstanding Gotei 13 captain, the man every shinigami aspired to be. 

Ise Nanao stood behind him, dwarfed by her commander's huge frame and looking all the more vulnerable for being unarmed. _That_ was a good sign, and swung Ichigo's mood back towards optimism. 

"Kyōraku-dono," he said, nodding a shallow bow. Start off treating him as an equal as clan-head and adjust from there. It was all he could do.

Kyōraku's eyebrows climbed slightly, but he nodded back and rumbled, "Shiba-dono." Met and matched. Maybe this wasn't going to be too bad after all. 

That hurdle safely jumped, Ichigo hunted around for something else to say. Hisana had given him some tips, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what they were. Something about the weather, probably, but 'too cold' seemed redundant and anything else was a lie. 

Instead he asked what he'd wanted to know since he'd got back to the 6th that night and discovered the 13th had imploded. "How's Ukitake-san doing?"

A slight twitch turned into an unhappy grimace and the shadows behind Kyōraku's grey eyes darkened even further as he looked away. "As well as can be expected," he said, voice taut with emotion, and Ichigo was reminded yet again of the first time they'd met. 

Then, Kyōraku had been reacting to the news that Aizen might have kido'd Ichigo's brain. He'd taken it badly, seeming genuinely rattled by the possibility, though he'd slipped back into denial land in super-quick time. Just a couple of days later, he'd been arguing that Aizen wasn't a threat at all. But, he'd had Ichigo's Quincy powers to focus on by then. Maybe the appointments committee would do the same and help take his mind off Ukitake.

"I understand some of your people helped out at the 13th that night," Kyōraku added after a moment or two of strained silence. Ichigo went to wave it away, but Kyōraku wasn't finished. "Your lieutenant had good instincts making the decision she did during your absence. Jūshiro is very grateful to her, and to your sister, who he remembers fondly."

Meanings hidden inside meanings, all layers and oblique references. It was like listening to Byakuya when he was doing the politics thing. Ichigo bit back a groan of frustration. Damn it, he hated this sort of stuff. It always made him feel out of his depth. 

But he had to deal with it if he was going to make this meeting work. 

Sorting through what Kyōraku had said, four things immediately sprung out at him. Firstly, that Kyōraku knew Ichigo had been away from the 6th during the whole debacle. Given the Soifon incident and the way Ichigo had dealt with it, it was probably asking too much for that not to be general knowledge by now, so he'd give that a pass.

The second was Kyōraku referring to Ukitake by his given name. What the hell that meant, Ichigo had no clue.

Thirdly was the mention of Karin. Not really a surprise, Ichigo guessed, given she'd fought on the front line against the 12th.

Fourth was the whole 'your people helped out.' Was he referring to Chad's shikai too?

Or maybe Ichigo was being paranoid and the thanks were just that?

"I hear Rukia-chan has decided to stay with the 6th also. A pity. She would have been welcome at the 8th had she chosen to come."

Okay, was that a reference to Rukia being out at the Kyōraku estate? 

Crap, had she been caught? 

If she had, with Ryūken's letters addressed to Renji and Byakuya on her, they were in deep shit. What the hell had possessed him to do such a risky thing? 

Then again, if she had been caught and Kyōraku knew about Ichigo's wild Quincy in the Rukongai, no way would he be at this meeting. He'd have turned up with onmitsukidō in tow and Ichigo would be answering to the sōtaichō right now.

So what the hell did he mean about Rukia then?

Crap, this was all too complicated. 

Trying to control his galloping pulse, Ichigo scratched at the back of his neck in feigned sheepishness. "Eh, she wanted to stick with her sis, and I wasn't about to tell her no."

Kyōraku looked at him for a second, then gave an amused chuckle that allowed Ichigo's belly to unknot slightly. "A wise man knows not to come between a woman and her heart's desire, that's a fact. Your grandfather would have told you the same." 

Respecting people enough to let them make their own choices came from his mom actually, but mentioning her would be just about the dumbest thing Ichigo could do right now.

Behind Kyōraku, Ise had let out a quiet snort at her captain's comment, which had the side effect of drawing attention to herself. Ichigo grabbed at the opportunity to change the subject. Nodding informally to her, he said, "Ise-sanseki. We're keeping this meeting to clan-heads only. There's a place in the corridor for personal guards." 

He didn't actually order her to leave. That would probably have just undermined the small amount of progress he and Kyōraku had just made. As it was, Ise glanced at Kyōraku, who nodded to her. She bowed first to him and then to Ichigo, and left, closing the door behind her.

Which now of course meant that he and Kyōraku were really alone. The silence stretched again as Ichigo searched for something else to say and hoped that Yoruichi would turn up soon. Preferably before the new Kuchiki did, because Ichigo didn't have a single clue what to say to him.

"Your guard is already in place, I presume," Kyōraku said, a slight frown crossing his face as his gaze flicked to the panel behind Ichigo, the one with the Shiba poppy painted on it.

Ichigo glanced warily the same way, an ominous feeling growing in his belly. "Chad? Sure, why?" 

For a moment Kyōraku looked taken aback, then his expression darkened. Pulling back a little, he said, "That would be the young man who is yet to sign with a division, despite possessing certain… Shall we say, restricted abilities." Ichigo had enough of a moment to think, 'Oh shit, he knows,' before Kyōraku continued, "I recommend you rectify that situation as quickly as possible. Such information will inevitably reach the wrong ears, and it would be a pity if one of the heroes of the hour turned out to be a traitor."

So he had been talking about Chad's shikai. Crap. Not that Ichigo should actually be surprised given Kyōraku's penchant for spying on his neighbours. He must have had the whole of the 13th wired to feedback on Ukitake's behaviour and a change of leadership would only go so far in changing that. In a lot of ways it was amazing the secret had lasted as long as it had. 

But now the secret was out and that comment from Kyōraku was almost as good as a threat, though Ichigo didn't think Kyōraku would actually tell anyone himself. Not right now, anyway. A warning then, that he'd keep the information secret as, at a guess, some kind of thank you for what Chad and Karin and everyone else had done that night. But, like Tōsen, Kyōraku was definitely serving Ichigo notice that Chad's days as a non-shinigami were numbered.

Before Ichigo could say anything, the door with the Kuchiki crest slid back and Koniwa announced, "Kuchiki Yoshito-sama." 

The kid who entered looked a bit younger than Kaien and Miyako's son, Kaito; in other words, somewhere around seven. He about came up to Ichigo's chest and was almost pretty in his lavender pink kimono and gold-coloured hakama, though he was doing his best to look like a grown up. There was a short sword tucked through his obi, perfectly to scale and Ichigo suspected completely functional going by the way his hand rested on the hilt. Delicate eyebrows pulled down into a serious frown, and cheeks, still chubby with baby fat, carried not one hint of a smile. But the thing which caught Ichigo's attention was the long silky dark hair, pulled back on both sides and held there, down the centre, by the kenseiken. 

A sudden visceral memory of that same cool jade beneath his fingertips as he and Byakuya kissed hit Ichigo right where he lived. He looked away, fighting to banish it, because that was so not a thought he needed to associate with a kid. As he did, his emotions snuck in a gut punch, because in some fundamental way the kenseikan was Byakuya in Ichigo's mind, and the last time he'd seen his lover, it was with tear-stained cheeks and bruised empty eyes. That, of course, made him think of Renji too, with his unspoken concerns and what Ichigo guessed had to be fear. And Ichigo had left them both there, alone, locked in that room.

Worry spiralled again, and damn it all, he couldn't be doing this right now. Not when he needed to be focused on politics and making sure they had something to come back to!

"Kuchiki-dono, how nice to finally meet you," a deep voice said. "I'm Kyōraku Shunsui, head of the Kyōraku family, the rightful inheritors of all things clan Ryōdoji, and captain of the 8th division of the Gotei 13. I look forward to working with you."

Thank crap Kyōraku had been on the ball enough to pick up Ichigo's slack. Ichigo collected himself just in time to look up and see the baby Kuchiki nodding a shallow bow. When he spoke, his voice was high even for his age, but it was rock solid. "Pleased to meet you, Kyōraku-dono. I'm Kuchiki Yoshito, head of clan Kuchiki. I hope we work well together." Then they both looked over at Ichigo.

Feeling a bit like a kid in class, Ichigo cleared his throat and dipped his bow. "Shiba Ichigo. Captain of the 6th." Damn, he hadn't meant to say that bit. He pressed on, feeling his cheeks heating. "Head of clan Shiba. Pleased to meet you. I hope we work well together." The last bit came out a bit gabbled, but at least he hadn't screwed it up too badly. 

"And you, madam?" Kyōraku asked straight afterwards.

Surprised, Ichigo followed his gaze to find a woman still standing in the doorway. Her hair was light brown and up in an twisted bun thing on the top of her head and, though she wasn't dressed as elegantly as the kid, she wasn't a servant either. When Kyōraku spoke, she dropped into a deep respectful bow, so it was Yoshito who did the introduction.

"This is Kuchiki Ranze-obachama." The kid's eyes warmed and his mouth seemed to want to curve into a smile as he gestured towards his aunt. "She's looked after me since my mother died."

Shit, not killed by Dad, surely! The panicked thought skittered through Ichigo's mind as Yoshito spoke, but Byakuya hadn't mentioned any adult Kuchiki victims except his own father and uncle, and no way would that lot make a non-Kuchiki clan-head, so it had to have been something else.

"A tragic incident, and one that all Seireitei grieved over," Kyōraku said, because he apparently knew all about them. "You have my condolences." 

That sounded more recent than the massacre. Damn it, Ichigo really needed to get his information sources sorted. He bet Hisana knew all about this, but he'd never asked, so she'd probably assumed he was in the know too. People always seemed to forget that he hadn't been in Soul Society for a whole year yet. There was a whole raft of 'common knowledge' he didn't have a clue about. 

"Thank you," the baby Kuchiki said, his gaze darting towards Ichigo for the briefest second. 

"Erm, mine too," Ichigo blurted. "Condolences. Tragic, erm, loss." Yeah, and that hadn't sounded lame in the slightest. Way to make a mega first impression on the new boy.

Before Ichigo could spontaneously combust with embarrassment, the final of the four doors slammed back. Ichigo caught a glimpse of Koniwa in the corridor, but he didn't get a chance to announce anyone before Yoruichi strode past him and into the room. She was dressed head to toe in a black uniform that was definitely not a shihakushō. For one thing, the top was sleeveless and backless, and revealed enough skin that Ichigo almost had a flashback to seeing her naked out at the Shiba hideout. 

That was, until he noticed the black clad ninja lurking beside Koniwa out in the corridor. His focus changed immediately because having an onmitsukidō escort meant that, like Kyōraku, Yoruichi was declaring herself clan-head _and_ a ranking military officer. Which, after what Ichigo had said during his introduction, placed the Kuchiki kid firmly as the only one of them without that string to their bow. 

So much for trying to make everyone feel equal.

"Not bad, not bad," Yoruichi was saying, golden eyes gleaming as she took in the careful arrangements. She smirked at Ichigo. "Weren't sleeping through all your lessons then."

As put-downs went, it could've been worse, considering the last time they'd spoken Ichigo had been throwing her off the 6th division's grounds and telling her never to come back. He folded his arms and fake-scowled at her. "Not all of them, no."

Yoruichi's grin immediately turned genuine and another knot unravelled in Ichigo's belly. Maybe he hadn't burnt all his bridges here either. That was good. He didn't altogether trust Yoruichi, but he didn't hate her either. Plus, it was a hell of a lot wiser to stay on the right side of the commander in chief of the onmitsukidō, especially when she knew half your family was in Soul Society illegally. 

Kyōraku was Yoruichi's next target. "Shunsui," she said, slightly more formally. They exchanged nods but no other words, and then it was Yoshito's turn. The kid looked nervous as Yoruichi's mischievous gaze turned on him. "Look who it is. Little Jukkou, all grown up."

Hardly that. The kid didn't take offence though. "It's Yoshito now, Shihōin-dono," he said with a tiny bow. 

"Is it now?" Yoruichi said, though she had to have known. No way did a detail like that get past someone in her position. Gaze rising, and narrowing when it came to rest on the auntie in the doorway, she continued. "Your idea?"

"It was a joint decision, Shihōin-sama," auntie replied. "It was deemed a suitable name for the clan's new first generation."

Okay, what now? Ichigo frowned, trying to make sense of what the hell she meant. He was still working on it when Yoruichi said, "You can't simply write him out of history, you know."

Him who? Byakuya? That would make sense of the first generation thing. Like a clan reborn, Ichigo guessed, distancing itself from the crimes of previous generations.

The comment won Yoruichi absolute stony silence, though it was conveyed through a respectfully bowed head. Yoruichi said nothing for a long moment, waiting for some kind of answer maybe, then she turned away with a disgusted click of her tongue. "Time to get started, I think," she said, taking her seat in front of the 'Godly Gears' door.

"Erm…" Ichigo havered, because Kuchiki-obasan was still in the room, and he'd kind of told Ise that she had to leave and Yoruichi's ninja hadn't even attempted to come in. 

Yoruichi looked from him to the auntie and sighed. "The kid's not had his coming of age ceremony yet, so he's got to be supervised. Not even the Kuchiki can change that. Even if they did want to." That last was muttered and aimed specifically at the auntie. Ichigo was starting to wonder just what had gone down between these two that the atmosphere was so damned poisonous.

"A seat-" Ichigo began, only to see Koniwa appear outside the Kuchiki door, cushion in hand. He placed it against the wall on the Kuchiki side and vanished out the door again, closing it behind him. Ichigo stared at the painted gladioli, not knowing whether to be annoyed at the implication or pleased with the service. 

With how quick he'd been, Koniwa had to have been eavesdropping, a habit he'd been pulled up for loads of times at the 6th. It was how he got most of his gossip, Ichigo knew, it was just really disconcerting when it was turned on him.

"Efficient," Kyōraku said dryly as he took his seat. There might have been a touch of humour in his voice, but Ichigo knew enough not to be fooled. Kyōraku had noticed the eavesdropping too.

"Eh, don't worry about it," Yoruichi said. She leaned over the jug of barley tea and plates of snacks (and when the hell had those been brought in? Ichigo didn't remember seeing anyone) to place a palm firmly in the centre of of the table. Reiatsu burst from the central point in a wave that made Ichigo's ears pop, and when it stopped, the sound quality in the room had changed. Instead of the almost echo-y feel that normally came with fusuma walls, the air felt compressed or deadened.

"Privacy kidō," Yoruichi explained. "Onmitsukidō special."

Useful. Ichigo took his seat. Yoshito did too, staring around himself, wide-eyed, as he sat down. Even the auntie looked pleased, as far as Ichigo could tell. Her expression seemed to mostly vary between sour and disapproving, except when she looked at Yoshito. Then her eyes softened, like she was genuinely fond of the kid. That won her points in Ichigo's book.

A familiar scent caught his nose and he zero'd in on the snacks, belly already rumbling a little. This was Yuzu's work, had to be, because alongside the more traditional senbei and edamame, there were what looked like homemade Kara Mucho, spicy potato chips that Ichigo used to have a fondness for back when he was alive. And a full plate of them had ended up right in front of his seat. 

Ichigo reached out and helped himself to one, and didn't even try to stop his grin when, beside him, the Kuchiki kid did the same. 

"I took the liberty of replicating the list of the nominations we'd tentatively settled on last time," Kyōraku was saying as they crunched. He'd pulled a scroll holder from inside his shihakushō and shaken out several scrolls that he now passed around. "It's still somewhat short, I'm afraid. We've only four of five judges and about fifteen for the general seats."

Rubbing his fingers clean of spices before he took his copy, Ichigo unrolled it and silently breathed a sigh of relief because, yes, Kyōraku had made a note of the names in kana. That was good, because Ichigo couldn't remember half of them even with that helping hand. Some sounded familiar, though he couldn't remember exactly who had allegiance with who. Except the Suehisa, who seemed to get everywhere, like cockroaches. 

They were all nobles though. He'd never had a chance to suggest anyone else to Yoruichi.

"Actually," Yoshito said as Ichigo was still reading, "I was hoping we could take this opportunity to make some changes."

Ichigo's ears pricked up at that. He lowered the scroll and sat up straighter. It wasn't likely that Yoshito meant anything as radical as allowing commoners amongst the Central 46, but this wasn't Byakuya's clan any longer. Maybe this new Kuchiki would see things differently.

"And what would those be?" Kyōraku was saying.

Rather than answer, Yoshito glanced back at his aunt. "It's quite complicated. Ranze-obachama, please would you speak for me?"

"Hey-!" Yoruichi began, only to be cut off by Kyōraku raising his hand. "You said yourself, Yoshito's a minor," he said. "He has every right to ask another to be his mouthpiece."

"But she-" Yoruichi tried again. 

This time it was Yoshito who interrupted her, though very politely. "You may be my traitor cousin's betrothed, Shihōin-dono, but you aren't a Kuchiki. Thus, it is isn't your place to say who speaks for us and who doesn't."

And honestly, Ichigo kind of had to side with the kid. Whatever beef Yoruichi had with the auntie, it couldn't be allowed to get in the way of moving this forward. 

Helping himself to another handful of chips, he said, "Let her speak. It's quicker than arguing."

Yoruichi turned her glare on him for a long moment, then growled, "Fine," and folded her arms on the table top. "Let's have it then."

Ranze eased forward a small distance, then folded her hands demurely in her lap and began, "As I'm sure you all know, the Kuchiki family are the historians of Seireitei. It falls to us to record everything that happens in Soul Society."

Ichigo almost choked on his food, because seriously? That explained so much about Byakuya. All that shit about family trees and the law, and how anal he got about details. He'd probably inherited it along with the dark hair and tendency to lord it over everyone.

Not that he was doing much lording right now.

Ranze was still speaking. "My husband was one such, and though he did his daily duty as all the historians must, his passion was the founding of Soul Society itself. It was through him I discovered that our world is not as unchanging as it sometimes appears. Over uncounted numbers of years, traditions have come and gone, and very few things now remain from the very roots of time. 

"There is an old tale that begins thus." Ranze's voice dropped, taking on a sing-song quality, like an old fashioned storyteller. "Long ago, long ago, chaos reigned and the elements held sway over all things. The worlds were one, animals and humans intermingled and the living walked alongside the dead as no distinction was made between them." 

Her tone changed again, back to her normal speaking voice. "It tells of the founding of Soul Society and instructs that some few souls amongst the masses strove to find meaning in their existence. Eventually, they gained enough awareness to name themselves balancers and, in time, they drew together in common cause, each taking on a specific task to try and carve out places of peace where other souls could find rest. The fight was long, their enemy powerful beyond all imagining, but finally they prevailed and brought order to the chaos."

"In the aftermath, each balancer swore to continue doing all within their power to ensure that order was maintained. They became the progenitors of the True First noble clans and, all throughout the years, their tasks have not changed." Ranze briefly raised dark eyes to each of them in turn. "The Shihōin who guard against and seal away any rising threat. The Shiba, creators and maintainers of the ways between worlds. The Towa, who built the earth and hung the sky, the Ryōdoji" - here, she inclined her head towards Kyōraku - "who shepherd souls to safety. And finally, the Kuchiki, the watchers and keepers of all things."

As she spoke, Ichigo found himself entranced. He hadn't known his clan was that old, or had roots like that. What did 'the ways between worlds' even mean? Did his ancestors invent the senkaimon or something? Was there something he was supposed to be doing about it now? And damn it, why hadn't Byakuya made history lessons more interesting.

"I fail to see what ancient legends have got to do with appointing new members of Central," Yoruichi complained in a bored tone.

"My, my, that's one even I can answer," Kyōraku said. "Those are the clans who built Seireitei."

Ranze inclined her head in agreement. "According to the histories, Seireitei began as a meeting place for the True First clans and grew from there. Though the specifics are shrouded by time from even Kuchiki eyes, one thing is very clear; the government we have today bears very little resemblance to what was originally intended. In the beginning, Central 46 held virtually no executive or legislative power at all. In fact, even to this day, only the six judges have a mandate from the Soul King, awarded via the five clan-heads. The other forty are merely a bureaucratic accretion, a holdover from advisors appointed, often temporarily, for their expertise to deal with specific problems."

So, they weren't the ancient and omnipotent institution they made themselves out to be. Ichigo felt his excitement rising. If the Kuchiki thought this way, it might be possible to convince them it was time to change Central completely. If he could get Yoruichi on side too and the three of them agreed, Kyōraku would have to go along with it even if he didn't approve.

"Nah, still not seeing the connection," Yoruichi said, sprawling sideways off her cushion as boneless as if she was in cat form. Going by the way Ranze twitched, she was doing it on purpose. What the hell was the connection between these two? And why was Yoruichi letting it get to her?

Ichigo lost his temper at all the posturing. "Because if Central's changed once, it can change again," he snapped. 

"Indeed it can," Kyōraku said, "Though what shape it could eventually take would still be up for debate."

"Seems obvious to me," Ichigo said, setting his jaw. 

"Ichigo…" he heard Yoruichi say warningly. She tensed, like she was expecting trouble any second. Ichigo kept going anyway, because he was doing this. They'd either be with him or against him, but at least they'd be talking about it.

"We open it up to everyone, commoners as well as nobles. If we're looking for new ideas and expertise, that's the way to go." 

"I don't think-" Kyōraku began doubtfully.

Ichigo didn't let him finish. "Maybe even let people vote for who they want."

At that, the others began to stir. He was losing them. They were shutting him out. It was the Aizen crapfest all over again and he couldn't let that happen. Not now.

Shoving a finger in the general direction of the main Seireitei senkaimon, he tried again, voice rising, "Come on! Just take look at the living world, guys! Democracy's a thing now. People are equal. You've gotta quit with all this 'nobles and commoners' shit!"

Everyone jumped as Kyōraku's hand slammed down on the table. "That is quite enough," he said, voice bristling with badly controlled annoyance. "There is no call for foul language in front of the ladies and children." 

"Language?!" Ichigo sputtered, because seriously, they were surrounded by all kinds of horrors and it was bad language that upset them? They were so freaking naive, so protected, it made his blood boil. He wanted to force them out of their comfy little lives, make them see the pit fighters and the kids dying in Ginzan, show them Uryū's scars and force them to watch as _their_ little sisters got stabbed to death because someone decided it was easier than sealing their reiatsu!

It was all Ichigo could do to keep his seat. He wanted to pace, to shout, to rant until they heard him and listened, because there was so much good they could do here, so much they could change! 

But if he tried to force the issue, they'd just think he was mad. They half thought it already from his outburst, he could tell. It was the way they were looking anywhere but at him, like he was an embarrassment, a shame. 

All except for Kyōraku, who was glaring daggers at him across the table. Though not at Ichigo's face, at his hands. 

His bare hands, where they rested on the table top.

Ichigo curled his fingers, trying to hide them under his sleeves. The gloves! Since getting bankai, he hadn't worn them once. Hadn't even thought about wearing them, truth be known. But he should have, especially tonight with Kyōraku being so damned jumpy about his Quincy abilities. He didn't even have Hanatarō as chaperone, since the little negator was back at the 6th, having nearly shaken himself silly at the idea of meeting up with his old master again.

So right now, what Ichigo needed to do was prove he was in total control of himself, otherwise Kyōraku would be off on the Quincy warpath again. Shoving every scrap of his temper right back down, Ichigo bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he said, though it had to sound as forced as it felt. "Please excuse my bad manners."

Despite Ranze's glower, Yoshito smiled kind of hesitantly. Kyōraku harrumphed, and Ichigo took the fact that he didn't say anything else as a win. Yoruichi just looked amused. "Eh, we all get carried away, kid," she said. "Just try not to annoy everyone into leaving."

As usual she hit the nail on the head. The whole point of this meeting was to move the political process on. If that didn't happen, Ichigo would have failed, and once the Gotei turned on itself, trying to reform things would be pointless. There wouldn't be anything left to reform.

Forwards then. He could do that. Lifting his chin, he looked to the Kuchiki and said, "Ranze-san, I'm sorry I interrupted. You had some suggestions to make?"

"Me?" she startled, obviously taken by surprise. Her gaze darted from Ichigo to Yoruichi before coming to rest on Kyōraku, who nodded like he was giving her permission to speak. And wasn't that interesting.

Ichigo filed it away for future reference as Ranze began, "As Kyōraku-sama said earlier, Seireitei was built primarily for and by the True First clans. Authority over it and all of Rukongai rested entirely in their hands, with Central's judges serving only as final arbiters in any disputes between them. What the Kuchiki propose is a return to that model."

"What-?" Ichigo blurted.

Before he could say anything else, Kyōraku held up his hand. "Let her speak."

"Yeah, Ichigo, might as well get this over with," Yoruichi added, and now Ichigo was starting to get it. Yoruichi had known all along what was coming, and she didn't like it.

Ranze had gone silent as the others spoke, her head bowed. Now she looked up and continued, "We all know that the traitor's destruction of Central 46 brought our whole world dangerously close to disaster. If it hadn't been for Shiba-sama's quick thinking," - she bowed over her knees in Ichigo's direction - "we may even now be at the mercy of rampaging soldiers. 

"As a civilian with many responsibilities and very little power of her own, this possibility terrifies me. In days gone by, I could have relied on those divisions allied with my clan for protection, however with Ukitake's fall, only two Gotei divisions now remain in the hands of the nobility. Power is slipping from our grasp, and with it goes the stability that Seireitei desperately needs."

"Okay, I see where this is headed," Yoruichi said with a heavy sigh, slouching forwards across the table. "You want me to take over one of the other divisions." 

Ranze's attention turned to her. "Since you will not be persuaded to reclaim the 2nd, then yes, though that is not the end of it." She drew herself up a little higher, her hands clutching into fists in her lap. "We Kuchiki propose using the Soul King's mandate to issue an executive order demanding the execution of all commoner Gotei captains, and their immediate replacement with officers from the noble classes."

Ichigo almost choked on nothing. "You can't-" he began.

"I agree, in principle," Kyōraku put in over the top. "And with a return to a properly implemented thrall system it could even be sustained. However, I fail to see how you could enforce such a thing to begin with."

"Yeah, you try and pull a move like that and the whole of Seireitei's gonna go up like a firework," Yoruichi said. "A mightily annoyed firework."

Ranze's eyes blazed. "Through the onmitsukidō, of course."

That brought Yoruichi to quivering attention, her nails digging so hard into the table top that Ichigo could see the gouge marks. "Never gonna happen. Not while I'm in charge!"

"It is what they were created for," Kyōraku said, looking like he was genuinely considering it. "And you have to agree, things are becoming dangerously unstable. As an organisation, we've been exposed. Now that Central 46 has been destroyed once, even if we appointed replacements this very night, there's nothing to stop it happening again. And next time whoever is behind it might not be content to quietly disappear. If someone like Ichimaru or Hirako tried the same thing, and either are perfectly capable, what's to stop them from turning the entirety of Seireitei on its head."

Was that what Aizen had been planning when he'd somehow forced Byakuya to slaughter Central 46?

No. It'd been weeks since then and no one had made a move, so he had to have been doing something else. But Kyōraku was right. Now Central had been wiped out once, it could be done again at any point, and there just wasn't the resources to put a captain level guard on them twenty-four seven. 

"Hirako?" Yoruichi huffed a laugh. "He owes too much money to the Iba to be worrying about Central." She cocked her head thoughtfully. "Ichimaru on the other hand, yeah, I could see that. The snake's definitely up to something in that division of his."

"You're investigating?" Kyōraku asked.

Yoruichi levelled a look at him. "Shunsui, I am always investigating." Her eyes cut briefly away, before returning with even more determination in their golden depths. "I'll admit I slipped up with Byakuya. He moved faster and in ways I wasn't expecting, but it won't happen again. I won't allow it. If there is a conspiracy, I will root it out and the traitors will face the Sōkyoku."

Except they wouldn't because, with Aizen on their side, the conspirators were virtually undetectable. 

Unless Ichigo told her what he knew. 

Could he? 

He balked at the very idea of doing it. Not because he gave a flying fuck about Hirako, because he didn't. As far as Ichigo as concerned, the arse should be thrown under a bus after the way he spoke to Chad. But did anyone really deserve to be strung up on that scaffold? According to Kūkaku, their own family had been victims of that thing and, though Ichigo had never seen the Sōkyoku itself in action, he knew what a whip could do and that had been bad enough. 

Not to mention the whole issue of Tōsen. They might have clashed the other night, but the captain was basically good people and currently Chad's best chance of getting safely out of Seireitei if Kyōraku made good on his threat from earlier. 

So no, Ichigo couldn't tell Yoruichi what he knew, not without opening up a whole other can of problems. Which meant it was going to be up to him to work out what Hirako's next move was going to be and…

What? At that point Ichigo kind of ran out of ideas. When Tōsen had first mentioned revolution, Ichigo had been excited. For the first time he could see the chance of real change, a way of finally protecting the most vulnerable in Soul Society. Except he'd forgotten something very important. The only way to get to that place was by going through the revolution first, and if there was one thing Ichigo knew from his near eighteen years as a human, it was that revolutions were very rarely bloodless.

Memories of that night at the 10th burned through Ichigo's mind. The flames, the scent of blood, the hunger of the crowds as they gathered outside the walls. Matsumoto's screams.

His eyes shifted to Ranze and then to Yoshito. Tōsen had said that Hirako hated the nobility. If Ichigo let this thing go ahead, would he one day hear and see the same things at the Kuchiki estate? And did Byakuya's family deserve that fate any more than Hirako deserved the scaffold? 

The answer was a simple no, because no one did. There had to be another way. But Ichigo couldn't find it alone. He was way out of his depth here. What he needed was help. Hisana, for a start because she understood how Gotei politics worked. But, more than her even, he needed to know what had happened that night between Byakuya and Aizen because, without knowing how to counteract him, any solution they came up with was bound to fail. 

In other words, he needed to get back to the living world. 

Damn, where the hell had Rukia got to?

"Ichigo? You still with us, boy?"

Yoruichi's voice dragged Ichigo back to the here and now. He jerked upright, only to discover everyone around the table staring at him. "Erm…" he stalled, cheeks heating at being caught not paying attention. "Sorry? What did I miss?"

Yoruichi huffed in amusement and shook her head. "We were deciding whether or not to move on. Ranze-san," - her gaze shot briefly to the Kuchiki auntie - "wants further discussion on her proposal."

"I simply want the options to be fully explored," Ranze began, but got no further before Yoshito said, "Maybe we should leave it until next time, obachama. Let everyone here have a chance to think about it." Sensible kid. He'd make a good clan-head someday, if he survived that long.

Again, Ranze's eyes softened when she looked at her charge, and there was no way Ichigo could hate the woman when she was obviously only trying to do what she thought was best for those she cared about. Ichigo knew he'd do the same for his sisters.

"As you say, young master," Ranze said, ducking her head and easing back so she was once again kneeling beside the wall and not part of the conversation.

Kyōraku heaved a huge sigh. "Well then," he said, spreading a scroll out on the table in front of him, "With that settled, we should probably start by setting a date for the next meeting. I suggest we leave it till the week after next to get New Year out of the way." He turned mournful eyes on Ichigo. "Jūshiro is insisting on visiting my family's estate for the holidays, and I haven't the heart to tell him no."

Which explained why the place had been crawling with shinigami. No wonder Rukia hadn't been in touch.

*

It was gone seven by the time Yuzu made it back to the house. For some reason she'd ended up falling asleep in Unohana-taichō's office after her training session and it had apparently taken Tsukishima-sensei several attempts to wake her. Shivering from the cold, she hurried in through the back gate and, after parting company from her guards with a wave and a 'thank you', she and Take headed immediately into the kitchens.

"I'm home!" she called as she shucked off her shoes and handed her outside coat to Take.

"Welcome back, Yuzu-sama, Take-san," several voices chorused in reply. Tamiko was there, along with Unshō, up to his elbows in water washing pans, and Rami, who was setting trays ready to serve. 

"They've not eaten yet?" Yuzu asked, gravitating towards the stove to check everything was as it should be. To the side, safely off the heat, stood the huge earthenware rice pot, the one everyone would soon be served from. She lifted the wooden lid, smiling as steam billowed out in a fragrant cloud. Perfect.

"No, they haven't, m'lady," Tamiko was saying. She was busy cutting pickles into flower shapes and arranging them onto plates. It was a skill she'd brought with her from the Kuchiki kitchens, not something Yuzu knew how to do. It also took a lot of concentration.

Handing the pot lid to Take, Yuzu pulled out the little packet that Tsukishima-sensei had given her, shook the contents over the rice and let Take replace the lid. Job done.

*

They'd managed to finalise all the senior appointments by the time food was served. The last one was Fugawa Tatsuya, who was allied with the Kuchiki. Ichigo kind of remembered his name coming up before, for a general seat, but this time he'd been confirmed as a judge, though Yoruichi had grumbled all the way through the signing of the paperwork. Kyōraku, by contrast, had grown progressively more cheerful.

Now though, it was all done and, at last, they were able to eat. Ichigo watched hungrily as Koniwa supervised the trays being brought in, and had to force himself not to steal one of the colourful pickles or lift lids on bowls to check what other deliciousness Yuzu had prepared. She'd definitely been involved. He could smell it. There was something unmistakable about any food Yuzu had a hand in.

Yoshito too looked to be struggling with himself. Kyōraku apparently had no such scruples. Humming happily, he leaned forward, lifting lids and peering underneath them. "Rice, soup, fried tofu and… What have we here?" He removed one lid with all the flourish of a magician revealing an assortment of beautifully arranged ingredients. "Shrimp, tuna, clams… All the necessaries for a truly splendid hotpot!" The door opened again and Unshō hurried in with a small free-standing stove which he placed in the middle of the table. When Rami seemed about to settle next to it, Kyōraku waved her away. "No no, my dear, we're perfectly capable of cooking for ourselves. Off you go."

Rami glanced quickly at Ichigo, who nodded permission. If Kyōraku was happy to play 'mom' there was no point in her staying. She bowed her way out, closing the door behind her, and once she was gone, Kyōraku rubbed his hands together. "Oh my, this is going to be a glorious treat. I've heard all about your little sister's cooking-"

"Who from?" Ichigo demanded before he could stop himself. "Someone at the 6th?"

Apparently unperturbed by being interrupted, Kyōraku raised a quizzical eyebrow in Ichigo's direction. "My, my, we are feeling defensive tonight, Shiba-kun." 

And okay, yeah, Ichigo probably deserved that, since he'd practically just accused Kyōraku of spying. But it wasn't like there wasn't precedent! Hanatarō had been reporting back to the 8th for weeks after Kyōraku had 'lent' him to Ichigo.

"Don't tease the boy, Shunsui," Yoruichi mumbled, leaning over the bowls too, "and for goodness sake get cooking before I start eating your arm instead of this meal. I'm starving." Her nostrils flared as she breathed in. If she'd been in cat form, her tail would've been twitching. 

Obediently, Kyōraku began loading the pot. While he was doing that, the others investigated the first course. It was some kind of white fish, Ichigo had always sucked at telling them apart, served with greens, a slice of egg roll and crunchy lotus root. Since everyone got their own portion there was no reason to wait so, after a murmured itadakimasu, Ichigo got stuck in. 

It was as good as Ichigo had hoped and, for a couple of minutes, there was nothing but the sounds of contented eating, then Kyōraku said, "Just to put your mind at rest, Shiba-kun, it was Jūshiro."

Who'd told Kyōraku about Yuzu's cooking? Yeah, that made sense. Ichigo nodded acceptance. "Sorry for getting paranoid on you."

Kyōraku inclined his head slightly. "Not an entirely undeserved sentiment," he said, "I trust Hanatarō is doing well?"

"Fine," Ichigo replied, bristling a little. Kyōraku probably meant the comment as an acknowledge of his dire record on privacy, but Ichigo didn't think he'd ever forgive the other captain for dumping the little negator at the 13th the way he had. Though to give Kyōraku credit, he wasn't to know that Ukitake was going choose that particular night to flip out. 

Though, since Kyōraku had brought the subject of Ukitake up, maybe it was worth asking… "How long are you guys going to be at the estate?" If he could get a time frame on the senkaimon being free again, he might be able to start planning his next trip to the living world. 

Kyōraku lowered his bowl slightly. "No more than a week, I wouldn't have thought. Jūshiro has happy memories of the place. Mine… Well…" 

He didn't have to say anything more. An uncomfortable silence settled around the table. Ichigo didn't know about anyone else, but he hadn't a clue what to say to try and break it. Eventually it was Yoshito who cleared his throat and said, "Kyōraku-dono, where did you learn to cook hotpot?"

That brought a smile to Kyōraku's face, though it was kind of sad. "Would you believe sōtaichō-san taught me? He's quite the cook, or was back in the day." Kyōraku indicated the mix of seafood and vegetables simmering in broth. "A meal like this using local ingredients was a staple for divisions stationed out in Rukongai."

"You didn't carry rations?" Yoshito looked shocked, and Ichigo knew how he felt. In his experience 'local food' wasn't a concept out in Rukongai. There weren't any shops or farmers who sold produce. Most things grown out there were sent back to Seireitei. Only the really perishable stuff was exempt, with the camps skimming off what they needed as the trains past by. It was a wasteful and time-consuming policy but, like a lot of the stupid in Seireitei, no one seemed to question it.

"It wasn't always as it is now, remember," Kyōraku was saying. His gaze drifted to Ranze, who was still sitting by the Kuchiki door. Ichigo had been going to invite her to eat with them, but Yoshito hadn't said anything when Koniwa only brought four trays in, so Ichigo let it pass. She'd probably just take it as an insult or something anyway.

Kyōraku was still speaking. "Back when I was a boy, each district had a resident noble family of some rank. Their farmers produced food which was used by the family and its retainers or traded between districts for other goods and services. Unfortunately, this left a large portion of the population without means, and some of them had enough reiatsu to feel the pangs of genuine hunger."

"Out in Rukongai? Why weren't they in the camps or part of the Gotei 13?" 

For a kid whose family purported to be historians, Yoshito didn't seem to know much history. Then again, maybe getting to know all this stuff was part of becoming clan-head. Ichigo was definitely learning a lesson or two.

"There weren't any camps, not back then," Yoruichi said, helping herself to several pieces of fish from the broth. She passed on the vegetables, Ichigo noted. "Kids or adults, they all lived where they could." She grimaced. "If you can call it living. Even drinking water was in short supply and, with people fighting over every scrap, some of the districts weren't much better that battlefields."

Ichigo swallowed uncomfortably. He hated the camps and everything they stood for, even more so after seeing Ginzan, but what Yoruichi was describing sounded pretty awful too. "What happened to the little kids with reiryoku?"

Yoruichi shrugged a shoulder and popped a piece of fish in her mouth. "Starved, mostly. It's not like they can stop making reiatsu all the time their hearts are beating."

"Hence the camps," Kyōraku put in. Deftly, he placed several pieces of fish and assorted vegetables into a bowl and handed it to Ichigo. "Though there was some pressure to focus on feeding and training only those who survived long enough to be useful, it was eventually deemed more acceptable to provide for all those who needed it."

"I remember mother talking about it," Yoruichi said, her eyes briefly distant. "People didn't like the camps at first, said they cost too much and the kids were getting food they didn't deserve. But then banditry dropped to just about nothing, and once people realised they could move around Rukongai without needing half a division as armed escort, support sky-rocketed."

There was something obscene, talking about all this while they stuffed their faces with food. Elbows on the table and head in his hands, Ichigo stared down at his full bowl seeing only the kids at Ginzan. 

Managed properly, would a place like that be preferable to starving? What were the alternatives?

If Hirako's revolution was successful, what would happen with the camps then? Tōsen claimed that Hirako only cared about those with the ability to fight for themselves. That automatically discounted the small and the weak, the ones the camps were originally designed to protect. So, would he abolish them and send the weaker kids back out to starve? 

Then there was Ranze, and her idea of going back to the clans running things. What place was there for all those kids in that scheme? Ichigo knew he'd do his best to make sure no one went without in any district he was in charge of, and he didn't think the others around the table would, but could the same be said of all nobles? Some of them seemed pretty shitty in his experience. The Suehisa definitely hadn't given a damn about anything except profit.

How the hell was this sort of thing managed in the living world? There were farms, he knew, and shops and markets. But how did it all balance out? How did it work so that no one starved?

Except they did, didn't they. He'd seen them on the television. So maybe the living world didn't have all the answers either.

Chopsticks suddenly appeared in Ichigo's line of sight, hovering threateningly over his bowl. With an annoyed huff, he pushed his food towards Yoruichi before she could embarrass them both by stealing anything. 

"Sure?" she said.

"Might as well, I'm not hungry," he replied, which of course was when his stomach rumbled like he'd not eaten for a week. He flushed and added, probably more honestly than was wise, "I just hate that there's people I can't protect." It made him feel stupid and weak, like he'd been when mom was killed, and all he'd been able to do was lie there in a pool of her blood when it had been all… his… fault. He should have been able to do something then, and he should be able to do something now.

Yoruichi sighed. "Just focus on the ones you can protect," she said. "Not everyone in the world is your responsibility."

The ones he could protect. Like his family and division, Byakuya and Renji through in the living world, the kids out at Ginzan.

What they all needed was somewhere safe, where they wouldn't get worked to death or condemned for crimes they hadn't committed. They needed homes, food and jobs they could do without pointlessly dying to monsters way stronger than themselves. And from what Ichigo had heard, none of that was about to happen either under Ranze or Hirako. 

But just because their ideas were wrong, didn't mean change shouldn't happen. It had to. And every time it came back to the same thing. If Ichigo wanted it done properly, he was going to have to do it himself.

Yet somehow, in all the stupid, he kept losing track of that. He kept ending up on the defensive, stretching himself thinner and thinner trying to protect more and more people, forgetting that the best way to do that was to make it so that he didn't have to protect any of them. 

What was it that Zangetsu and Ossan had said about blinkers? 

Setting his jaw, Ichigo looked up. "You're right. I was being dumb." 

Of course his moment of revelation came too late to save his dinner. Yoruichi had just finished emptying the contents of Ichigo's bowl into her own. Seeing him watching her, she smirked her 'cat got the cream' grin and purred, "Gotta be faster if you're gonna catch up with me, Ichi-kun."

Any other time and he might have fought her for it. As it was, Ichigo reached for the rice and lifted the lid, smiling his own private smile as a cloud of mouth-wateringly fragrant steam wafted out. "Knock yourself out," he said, "I'll start on this." He tipped the rice into the pot and gave the mixture a quick stir. Given a chance to soak up the flavour of the broth, it'd be better than all the rest put together.

*

There were very few places these days where Yuzu felt truly safe. Her room, with Take guarding the door was one of them. She sat now on her bed, Bostov beside her, hands folded in her lap, waiting. For what, she didn't know, but Tsukishima-sensei had told her to be ready, and so here she would stay until what was going to happen, happened.

*

"Why were the Kyōraku chosen to succeed the Ryōdji?" Yoshito asked, out of the blue.

Curious to hear the answer, Ichigo kept his ears open as he took his first mouthful of rice porridge. Immediately, an odd tingling spread across his lips and tongue, like the after-burn of a really hot curry. He paused for a moment, pondering the sensation. Some new kind of spice, maybe? Whatever it was, it was very tasty. His belly rumbled in appreciation as he continued eating.

"Simply because of the number of times the two clans had intermarried down the centuries," Kyōraku replied. He'd finished eating his hotpot and, as he spoke, began portioning out the porridge Ichigo had cooked into waiting bowls. "There were some objections, of course, but eventually even the most dogmatic of record keepers had to admit that the Kyōraku were Ryōdoji in all but name." His gaze flicked towards Ranze sitting near the door. "I believe the Kuchiki are similarly related to the Fugawa. Ranze-san, didn't your brother marry in this generation?"

Ranze inclined her head in agreement. "And my uncle and aunt previously. However, the relationship is not quite so intimate as the one you describe, my lord. The Fugawa have only ever contracted into branch lines of the family. We have never claimed to be true Kuchiki."

"Don't have to. Just waited until the rest of them died out," Yoruichi muttered, quietly enough that everyone could ignore her. It made sense of her grumbles during Fugawa Tatsuya's appointment as a judge though, if the guy was Ranze's brother. That family had just got their hands on one hell of a lot of power.

"Not that we Ryōdoji stand-ins have much to do anymore, except maintain a watching brief," Kyōraku continued. He passed a bowl of porridge to Yoshito. "The Gotei in general handles all the ushering of souls. And, of course, the 3rd keeps an eye out for any glitches in the garganta while maintaining the dangai." Serious grey eyes rose to meet Ichigo's. "That was your people's job, originally. The 3rd took formal responsibility for it after the Shiba fell." 

Had the Ryōdoji gone the same way as his own clan, or just died out. It was one of those question's Ichigo had often wondered about but never got around to asking. As he opened his mouth to finally do exactly that, the Kuchiki door suddenly slammed open. Sound poured in. Raised voices. Crying.

Ranze threw herself forward, covering Yoshito with her body as the three captains sprang to their feet, reaching for weapons that weren't there. Koniwa stood in the doorway, face ghost-pale in the evening light and he wasn't alone. Several others were in the corridor behind him. Yoruichi's ninja and Ise lurked in the shadows, while Rami knelt on the floor with her arm around someone; Tamiko, going by the blond curls; who was choking, or throwing up maybe? Except, was that blood? Yoruichi shot past Ichigo and was on her knees beside them in an instant.

"It's the rice, my lord," Koniwa was saying, panic evident under his attempt at a calm facade. "Someone's poisoned the rice!" 

Ichigo glanced back in confusion at his half-empty bowl still sitting on the table. Had that been what the odd taste was? But he felt fine, not the smallest bit sick.

In a move that was either really dumb or really brave, Kyōraku leaned over, pinched up a small amount of the rice porridge and licked it. He spat immediately, shaking his head like whatever he'd tasted was foul.

Out in the corridor, Tamiko had stopped choking. Yoruichi shifted her slightly and she slumped lifelessly onto Rami's lap. With a wail, Rami grabbed her and bent over, rocking them both back and forth. 

Tamiko was dead. After eating the rice. The rice cooked in Ichigo's kitchen and served at his table, to three other clan-heads.

Sure, Ichigo was fine, but how much water was that argument going to hold with Tamiko dead. If anything, it just made the situation look even worse, like maybe Ichigo had served himself first to avoid the poison. 

Panic clamped round Ichigo's throat. This wasn't good. This was really really not good. Even a True First clan-head could be convicted of attempted murder if the victims were important enough. And you didn't get much more important that this lot.

Kyōraku spat again, then wiped his mouth. The back of his hand come away bloody. "That, is not poison." 

"What?" Ichigo asked in total bewilderment. "Then what the hell is it?" Because something had killed Tamiko. 

"Why don't you tell me?" Kyōraku replied, shoving Ichigo's half empty bowl into his chest. As he spoke, Ichigo could see blood on his teeth. "Quincy." That last was snarled, vicious.

Now Ichigo was just confused. What had him being a Quincy got to do with the rice?

"I think you'd better answer him, Ichigo," Yoruichi said. Somehow, she'd managed to extract Tamiko's body from Rami's clutches. The cook was now lying on her back in the doorway and, when Yoruichi tugged open the front of her yukata, Ichigo almost puked. It looked like someone had tried to gut her with a spoon. Chunks of skin and muscle were just gone, and what he could see of her insides had turned to mush.

"That," Kyōraku was saying, his finger quivering as he pointed at Tamiko's body. "Is what I'm talking about. That woman wasn't poisoned, Quincy, she was attacked. By your reiryoku, or another of your vile kind." His eyes opened slighter wider as if he'd just realised something, and Ichigo's blood ran cold as he turned away, exclaiming, "The sister! Of course, she's the one who cooked the meal, after all." 

"What! No, wait!" Ichigo yelled, as Kyōraku started towards the door. "It wasn't Yuzu. You don't know her. She wouldn't do a thing like that. Even if she had the power, which she doesn't, she just wouldn't. She hates hurting people. She wants to be a nurse. She always wanted to be a nurse. It was her dream from when she was a little girl." 

"Ichigo," Yoruichi said warningly. 

He didn't care. He knew he was babbling, but he to convince them. This was Seireitei, the same people who convicted Renji without letting him say a word in his own defence. If he didn't get through to Kyōraku now, Yuzu would be gone before Ichigo could stop it. "That's how come I didn't fight when she ended up at the 4th. I thought, they might have killed us, we might be dead, but at least Yuzu could still have her dream!"

Kyōraku froze, his whole body going momentarily still, before he turned slowly towards Ichigo. "Killed?" he said, his voice very flat. Deadly, that was the word for it.

Ichigo took a step backwards because, oh crap, he hadn't meant to say that. Kyōraku wasn't on the list of people who knew. He was like Kūkaku. He thought Isshin had somehow found a Quincy out in Rukongai somewhere and had kids that way. That they'd only been in the living world for a couple of years.

"I-I mean," Ichigo began before running out of words. There was nothing he could say. 

"Leave it be, Shunsui," Yoruichi said from immediately behind him. 

Kyōraku's cold gaze shifted. "You knew," he said. It wasn't a question. It was obvious that she did. "You knew that not only was this creature an abomination, he was also impure. And yet you allowed him to become the head of a True First clan!"

The whole room seemed to reverberate with the power of Kyōraku's voice. It was all Ichigo could do not to cringe in the face of it. The guy was seriously scary when he got angry and right now he was just as furious as he'd been the night Ichigo had hurt Ise. The only things missing were the twin zanpakutō.

No one offered a rebuttal. The accusation was true.

"Obachama?" Yoshito's quiet and very young sounding voice fell into the increasingly uncomfortable silence. "Is Kyōraku-dono saying that Shiba-dono is a gaki?"

"Yes, I rather think he is," came the reply and if Ichigo thought she sounded disapproving before, that had nothing on her tone now. 

He felt rather than saw Yoruichi's cringe. It was a kind of drawing in of her reiatsu. "It doesn't actually mean anything, you know," she said. "He's still shinigami, still Shiba."

"He's not one of us!" Kyōraku thundered. "His soul is corrupt, impure-"

"It's older, more mature!" Yoruichi snapped back. "For goodness sake, Shunsui, grow up! Your own lieutenant is from Rukongai."

"Which is why I would never marry her!"

They glared at each other across the table like two immovable mountains, until the Shihōin door suddenly slid open and Yoruichi's ninja escort stepped into the room. "Commander, we're getting reports that the main Towa compound out in Rukongai has been attacked."

"What?" Yoruichi spun on him. "When?" 

"About three hours ago. With some kind of explosives. The attackers breached the walls and then took out the keep."

"Explosives." Kyōraku's attention homed back in on Ichigo. "Another Shiba speciality. Was this the plan all along? To remove all the clan-heads in one night and take Seireitei for yourself?"

"Why the hell would _I_ do that?" Ichigo demanded, even as his mind churned furiously over the possibility that Kyōraku was right, at least partially. Someone had tried to kill all the clan-heads, that much was obvious, but it wasn't Ichigo. Aizen probably, or maybe Hirako, though it seemed like a leap for him to try it alone, and Tōsen definitely hadn't given the impression that things were so far advanced.

"To hand it over to your own kind," Kyōraku snarled. "Whatever they may be. For all we know there's more of you out there just waiting for word." He make a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "Damned Quincy. I knew it was a mistake accepting you."

"Any word on causalities?" Yoruichi said, still speaking to her ninja. 

"Not yet."

"That's probably bad news. If any of the main family made it out, they'd have reported in straight away." Yoruichi grimaced. "Damn it! How did I miss this?"

"Perhaps the same way you missed your betrothed turning traitor and slaughtering the government," Kyōraku commented, making no effort to keep the contempt out of his voice. 

Golden eyes glared at him with annoyance. "I've already apologised for that, in triplicate. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business in Rukongai."

"We are not finished here!" Kyōraku boomed as she turned to leave. When he had her attention, he levelled a finger at Ichigo and said, "Before you go anywhere, you will do your duty and detain that Quincy."

"What?" Ichigo said, backing off a few more paces. In the doorway behind him, Koniwa's pale blue reiatsu flared very slightly. Ichigo glanced round. Both of Koniwa's hands were behind his back. He must be holding something. Better yet, Chad was right behind him, and from where Ichigo was standing, he could see the look of utter determination on Chad's face.

They were ready to fight.

Crap. If he did that, there was no going back. They'd all be outlaws. Forever.

Then again, he couldn't risk arrest. There were too many unknowns. He wouldn't be able to protect his sisters, or Chad or anyone if he was in jail. Not to mention, things like trials and justice didn't exactly happen in Seireitei.

Yoruichi was making frustrated noises, it was obvious she didn't want to do this. "You're making too much of it, Shunsui," she complained finally. "Ichigo's already said he wasn't responsible. And anyway, he was with us all evening. When is he supposed have doctored the rice?"

"I'll concede that he perhaps did not personally do it," Kyōraku argued. "However the sister who cooked the meal would have had both means and opportunity."

Now Yoruichi looked torn. "But she doesn't have any Quincy powers," she said. "Where'd she get the reiryoku."

"Are you being deliberately obstructive, Commander?" Ranze suddenly put in. "When a clan-head with the Soul King's mandate demands the detention of a potentially dangerous criminal element, is it not the duty of the onmitsukidō to obey?"

Ichigo saw when she caved, and in that moment, he made his decision and acted on it. Releasing his reiatsu in a blast forwards that made his skin ache and everyone else flinch, he swung round, grabbed Koniwa in one hand and Chad in the other, and stepped into shunpo. The first step took him out through the side of the house, demolishing several panels as they went. The second took him almost to the walls of the estate, into a thick clump of trees close to the compost heap. 

All hell let loose behind them, the Shiba bodyguards taking on the escorts, it had to be, but they'd not hold for long. Yoruichi would be right behind him, Ichigo knew. He had next to no time, and had to use every scrap of it.

He was giving orders even as they landed. "Koniwa, get over to the 6th and find Hisana. Tell her what's happened. Tell her to prepare the division for a take over, then get yourself out. If you have a chance, take Rami, Unshō and anyone else who wants to go, with you. Stay safe. I'll send word when I can."

"Yes, Shiba-taichō-sama," Koniwa bowed crisply and shot off, his reiatsu so closely wrapped around his body that he vanished almost immediately. 

That just left Chad who, when Ichigo turned towards him, held out Zangetsu and the Shiba tanto. That explained where he'd been when everything started to go to hell.

Ichigo took his weapons gratefully, shoving them through his obi as he quickly laid out his plan. "I need you to get Karin and Yuzu and get out of Seireitei. You're going to need to head for the living world, but there's some people you need to get to first. Karin will tell you who and where. Listen to her. If I can, I'll meet you at the hospital in Karakura." And fuck. Byakuya, Renji. But he couldn't go there right now. At least they were safe. He had to focus on the ones who weren't.

"If I don't make it, tell them…" Ichigo puffed out a breath of air. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect them. Tell them…"

A large hand landed on Ichigo's shoulder. Ichigo lifted his head. He hadn't even realised that he'd been glaring at his feet. Understanding eyes stared down at him from behind overlong bangs. Chad seriously needed a haircut. "I will protect them in your place," Chad said, managing as always to neatly halve Ichigo's stress.

"Thank you," Ichigo said, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. "Now go."

Chad didn't need telling twice. He took off, back towards the house. Picking up Yuzu first, which made sense. Knowing Karin, she'd sensed his reiatsu blast and was probably already on her way here. Which meant Ichigo needed to head away from both the house and the 6th, and make as much racket as possible while he did so.

Flaring his reiatsu as hard as he could, Ichigo took off almost directly east. It was time to see who was faster, him or Yoruichi.


	11. Better Things Don't Look Like You

She heard the noise start in the depths of the house. Raised voices, someone crying. Yuzu stayed seated on her pillows, obedient to the orders she'd been given because surely this couldn't be what Tsukishima-sensei had meant. Not just an argument. There had to be more than that.

The chaos grew louder. More voices. Authoritative ones. Kyōraku-taichō and Yoruichi-sama? It sounded like they were yelling at nii-chan.

A few moments later, Take opened the bedroom door and slipped inside. "What's happening?" Yuzu asked, jerking upright, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer or not. Nii-chan would be fine, he had to be. Tsukishima-sensei wouldn't do anything to hurt nii-chan, not when he cared so much about the three of them. 

"I'm not sure," Take replied, still peeking out onto the walkway. "Someone's been hurt I reckon-"

What sounded like an explosion suddenly rocked the house, followed by wood falling, and the roof above Yuzu's head creaked ominously. Both she and Take looked up, Yuzu half-expecting beams to start landing on her head imminently, but nothing actually gave way. 

After a moment Take said, "I think that was Shiba-taichō leaving. Yoruichi-sama seems to have gone too."

Fear caught Yuzu's throat like someone had closed a hand around it. "Nii-chan," she whispered, wrapping her arms around her toy lion, trying to find comfort where she could. It came as it always did through memories, long years of love from the family she was born into and from the new family she'd found at the 4th, the whole made all the richer for the thread of consistency that strung those parts of her life together; Tsukishima-sensei. 

From earliest times he'd been there, sharing every high and every low. He'd held her after mom died, was there outside school after her and Karin's first day. Holidays, homework, laughter and tears, even the night that should have been the most terrifying of Yuzu's life, when the shinigami had invaded her home. He'd been there then, holding her tight and telling her to trust him, that he would keep her safe, that he would be there when she woke up. And he had been, alongside Kira at the 13th, his lopsided smile as kindly as it ever was. 

Raised voices came from nearby, one of them definitely Kyōraku-taichō as Yuzu recognised the rich rumble of his voice. Take's stance drew tighter, her hand straying to her sword, and her brows drew down into a fierce frown. She reminded Yuzu of Ichi-nii that way, fierce and protective of everyone around her. 

More noise. Footsteps. Suddenly Take turned, eyes wide as she hissed, "Toilet, now."

Yuzu didn't need to be told twice. Gathering up her kimono, she hopped off the bed and slipped into the little closet that lay between her and Karin's rooms just as someone banged loudly on the bedroom door. 

For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of Take shifting something in the room. The banging came again, and this time, Take called, "Yes?" 

"One of Shiba girls is in there with you. I need to speak to her, now." It was Kyōraku-taichō and he sounded angry. 

Pressing her back to the outside door, the one that led out onto steps at the side of the house, Yuzu clutched Bostov tighter and bit her lip. When Tsukishima-sensei had told her to be ready for what would come, was this what he'd meant? And if so, why was she scared?

"I'm sorry, sir, but she's in the toilet right now," Take replied.

"Then get her out of the toilet."

"I'm sorry, sir-"

It sounded like the bedroom door slammed open and then Kyōraku's voice came again, even louder this time. "Do not try to stall me, woman. I shall speak to the Shiba girl, right now!"

He was coming. Yuzu could hear the heavy tread of his feet on the boards. Her breath caught, her heart racing. She pressed back even further, knowing that any second that door would open and-

"This is not the toilet!" 

Shaking, Yuzu stared at the still closed door in front of her. 

"No, sir. The toilet is through that room and across the corridor."

Take must have moved something, hidden the door somehow.

"Damn it!" More footsteps, light ones. Several people by the sound of it, another door slamming, then, "Don't bother, she's flown!" Closer, but on the other side of Yuzu in Karin's room, "And they call themselves the Stealth Force, letting a child slip past them. Disgraceful. Nanao-chan! Leave these fools to their idiocy, we're leaving!"

The heavy footsteps moved away. Yuzu, her heart making a serious effort to beat its way out of her chest, sagged against the wall behind her. It immediately collapsed and she fell backwards. Huge hands grabbed her, one around the chest, the other over her mouth silencing her scream, and yanked her back against something solid. Yuzu kicked out frantically, convinced that this had to be Kyōraku, that he'd doubled back somehow and found her hiding place. And then a low voice hissed, "Stop fighting. It's only us." And that voice she knew, better than her own even.

"Karin-chan?" It came out muffled. Yuzu rolled her eyes, trying to see who had a hold of her. It was Sado, of course, and beside him was a very worried looking Karin.

"Yeah, it's me. Look, I'll explain later, but we've got to get out of here right now. Sado's going to carry you, so just hang on tight."

Yuzu nodded, relief coursing through her as Karin took charge, because this had to be what Tsukishima-sensei had meant. Of course he'd tell her to wait for her sister. Nothing else made any sense at all.

*

Yoruichi kicked him out of shunpo close to the 10th. Ichigo skidded about half a block on his ass, demolishing the front of an izakaya and sending the patrons screaming in all directions before regaining his feet in front of set of residential buildings. That made his mind up for him. No way was he fighting Yoruichi here, not where people could get hurt.

Cutting north, he headed for Sōkyoku hill. Sure, it was right in the middle of Seireitei, but he wasn't escaping anyway, not now she'd had caught up. At least up there, he'd be able to let loose guilt free.

She tracked him, up close and personal, but made no other moves to bring him down. He'd like to think it was because she shared his concerns, but had a bad feeling it was more that she was having too much fun chasing him. Ichigo definitely felt like a mouse, anyway.

When he reached the clearing on top of the hill, he dropped out of shunpo, drew both his weapons and took his stance, expecting Yoruichi to come in hard. Instead, she appeared several feet away, landing lightly and keeping her distance. 

"You giving up already?" she called over. Her body language was all swagger.

Ichigo shrugged. "Doesn't seem much point in running. You've proved you're faster." As he spoke, about half a dozen onmitsukidō suddenly appeared behind Yoruichi. Ichigo's his heart leapt to his mouth and he had to fight the urge to shunpo backwards, but they made no move to attack, just spread out to surround him. 

A trap then. Yoruichi wanted to take him alive. 

Good. He could use that. Every moment he could delay here meant more time for everyone else to escape.

For long moments, silence reigned. Ichigo's breath sounded harsh in his ears as he waited for Yoruichi to make the first move. She seemed to be studying him, like she wasn't sure what to make of his behaviour, then finally she called out, "You mean it. You're actually prepared to fight."

"I haven't got a choice." Grip tightening on Zangetsu, Ichigo slid his feet slightly further apart. "I'm not going to jail, not after what happened with Renji. And anyway, I thought you had to deal with the Towa thing?"

That earned him a dismissive hand-wave. "Soi Fon's handling it. Shunsui was right, this is my priority."

Damn, Ichigo had been kind of hoping…

"For what it's worth, I genuinely don't think you did it," Yoruichi continued. She'd begun wandering back and forth making it harder for Ichigo to keep his guard up properly. Not that that was possible anyway with the ninja so spread out around him. "For starters, you're not that sneaky. If you wanted anyone dead, you'd do it with a blade."

It was kind of gratifying to know that Yoruichi thought of him as that simplistic, since it made it much less likely that she'd dig deeper into his affairs. 

But if she thought talking this way was going to make him trust her, she was sadly mistaken. Ichigo stayed on his toes.

Yoruichi stopped pacing and folded her arms, glaring at him across the dusty hill top. "I could kill you in a second, you know," she said, and she was probably right. There was less than twenty feet between them, and she was so fast that Ichigo would be dead almost before he saw her move. 

Then again, he could see Byakuya's senka these days, so maybe he'd at least be able to get one block in.

Feeling momentarily optimistic about his chances, Ichigo shot back, "And yet, here I am. Alive and kicking." 

Golden eyes narrowed. "What if I told you jail wasn't the only option?"

"Hey, I never said I wouldn't listen," Ichigo replied. More time. This was good. Keep her talking.

"Kisuke would-"

"Forget it," Ichigo interrupted immediately. And okay, so he'd said stall, but there were limits, and not getting involved with Urahara Kisuke again was an absolute. "I'm not making any more deals with that guy. Ever."

Yoruichi inclined her head, giving that some serious thought, before saying, "Your loss. How about this; blame that ex-third seat of yours for tampering with the rice. Given his record, no one would be surprised, and I can find a way of connecting him to Quincy reiryoku."

Okay, that was interesting, but she seriously thought he'd do that! "No way am I throwing Koniwa under a bus to save my own skin!" Jeez, didn't loyalty mean anything to these people?

"Eh, I thought you'd say that. The same goes for your family too, I guess," she said. Ichigo didn't even dignify that one with an answer. "Okay, last option, but you're not going to like it. Hand yourself in to me-"

"I said, I wasn't letting you lock me up!" Ichigo yelled.

Yoruichi was on him before Ichigo even registered that she'd moved, only instinct letting him parry a blow that would have knocked him cold. For a second Yoruichi seemed to balance on his sword like gravity meant nothing, then her foot caught his left arm, sending the tanto spinning. Ichigo leapt, using his own hakuda skills to avoid her follow up and went in for the attack himself, a low to high diagonal slash that would have disembowelled Yoruichi, if only she'd stayed still long enough. Instead, she seemed to flow around the blade, feet and fists delivering a flurry of blows that Ichigo could only dodge and parry, staggering backwards as his forearms and shoulders paid the price of every too slow response.

In this situation, his sword was useless, though it took him a second to realise why. He'd trained in hand to hand, with Isshin for years and recently against both Byakuya and Renji, and they'd often set him to fighting them when he was unarmed and they were using swords. What no one had ever bothered to teach him was how to handle an unarmed enemy when he was carrying a sword, and right now he was really feeling the lack. Unlike the almost predictable rhythm of a sword-fight, unarmed Yoruichi was everywhere, her flexibility and speed combining with the use of all four limbs to turn her hakuda into a whirling dance of death. There was no time to get off a getsuga tenshō, let alone release his bankai. He had his single blade and that was it. 

Chances to riposte slipped through Ichigo's fingers as he tried desperately to reorder his fighting style, to no avail. He no sooner managed to counter one attack than she was back with three more, as unrelenting as Byakuya in a pissy mood.

Only, unlike Byakuya, Yoruichi might actually kill him if he didn't step up his game. 

The thought cost him a heartbeat of distraction. Something caught him a numbing blow to his right wrist. Zangetsu tumbled from his hand as his feet flew from under him, and the next second he was eating dirt, face down on the ground with his right arm so far up his back it was on the verge of being dislocated. Ichigo thrashed, hoping for some last moment save, and then Yoruichi's knees landed hard in the small of his back and fingers tipped with kidō sparked against the nape of his neck. The threat of them was absolute; move again and I'll rip out your spine. 

"Listen to me, you stupid little boy," Yoruichi snarled. "If you refuse to turn in your family, you have only one other chance; bid against the accusation."

Panting and blinking dust from his eyes, Ichigo tried to make sense of what she was saying, because if it was what it sounded like, maybe there was some hope in this shitstorm yet. "As in, fight in the challenge arena? Why the hell didn't you suggest that first?" he demanded, though it came out more like a whine. 

"Because," Yoruichi said, releasing her hold on him and standing up. "You said you wouldn't go to jail."

Ichigo rolled onto his back and glared up at her. "If I do that, I have to be arrested first?" 

It sounded a bit like that 'trial by combat' thing that he'd read about in school. Which didn't sound so bad. He had bankai and his Quincy abilities. Was there anyone he couldn't stand against?

Aizen, Ichigo supposed, but somehow he couldn't see the guy putting his supposedly illegal shikai on public display just to beat Ichigo's ass. And anyway, it was Kyōraku who'd made the accusation.

"Yes. Which means you'll have to trust me to keep you safe until-"

Another ninja, who looked identical to all the others, suddenly appeared behind Yoruichi, who grimaced, pointed a pinning finger at Ichigo, then turned to the ninja. "Well? This had better be good."

Scrabbling for his weapons, Ichigo heard the ninja say, "Word has come from the Towa compound, commander. The clan-head is dead. So is the heir and her husband. Their child is missing."

"Shit!" Yoruichi cursed, her expression darkening to a scowl, which only grew deeper when even more figures appeared on the hilltop. Ichigo recognised some of them immediately; Kyōraku, along with his second and third seats, Yadomaru and Ise, and all of them with their zanpakutō drawn.

He staggered to his feet, ready to fight again, and only stopped when Yoruichi reached back and grabbed his arm. "What the hell do you want, Shunsui," she snapped, obviously not in the mood for games.

"Only to ensure you do your duty," Kyōraku replied, "And to do it in your stead if you prove unequal to the task." His eyes blazed as he stared at Ichigo. 

Ichigo glared right on back. To think he'd respected this guy. Liked him even. Now, Kyōraku had shown his true colours and Ichigo couldn't feel anything but contempt, as he did for anyone who regarded the people reborn in Rukongai as lesser. 

Though, ironically, Kyōraku showing up actually made Ichigo feel better too, now he stopped to think about it, because the big captain might be armed, but he'd come empty handed. If he, or any of his people, had managed to catch Yuzu or Karin, Kyōraku would be dangling them in front of Ichigo as a threat. Which meant they must have escaped. The only person Ichigo had to worry about now was himself.

"If you're talking about killing him, that's not happening," Yoruichi was saying, her chin tilting as she flicked a glance up at Ichigo. "At least, I don't think I am. Your choice, Ichigo-kun. Final offer, take it or leave it."

If he chose to leave it, he'd dead within milliseconds, Ichigo knew. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to evade Yoruichi, Kyōraku would be on him, those twin zanpakutō ready to severe his head from his shoulders just like they had been that first time.

But at least that end would be quick. What Yoruichi was offering was a chance, yes, but also a danger. He'd have to trust her, and he really wasn't a hundred percent sure that he could. For a start, there was no way they were going to let him remain armed while he was in jail, and with no one else to hold Zangetsu for him, he'd have no choice but to hand it over to Yoruichi. 

That meant this wasn't his decision to make alone.

His question was short, to the point, and directed inward. _Should I give you up?_

For once, the answer came back loud, clear and in harmony. _If it means we live to fight another day, then yes!_

Good enough. Ichigo twirled both blades in his hands until the hilts pointed towards Yoruichi and said, "If anything happens to them, I will come back and hunt you down."

Her smirk was as wide as it was sunny as she relieved him of his zanpakutō. "You hear that, Shunsui?" she called. "Boy's turning himself in."

"Only so I can challenge," Ichigo pointed out loudly enough for Kyōraku to hear.

"Eh, we'll get to that part later," Yoruichi replied equally loudly, tossing the pair of swords to one of her underlings. Ichigo's eyes followed them instinctively, because, shit, had he just made the worst mistake of his life?

He looked back to find Yoruichi's eyes glowing with intent as she went up on tiptoe. "Stop panicking," she murmured. "Let Shunsui have his moment to gloat. We can sock him with the details later." 

Kidō cuffs closed around Ichigo's wrists and he had to swallow hard to resist the urge to absorb them. It was fear that drove the urge, the same one that had tempted him that night with Byakuya and Renji, when they'd used the cuffs and nipples clamps on him. Except that really had been sexy, if outside his limited experience. This was just intimidating. In retrospect, the difference was stark.

The panicky feeling wasn't helped when Kyōraku appeared beside them. "A challenge? You'll allow it?" Kyōraku demanded.

Yoruichi shrugged. "I don't see why not. The kid wants to. I'm not going to gainsay him."

"If he loses-" Kyōraku began.

"He loses everything; division, clan, personhood. He knows," Yoruichi finished, her back to Kyōraku as she spoke. 

Intense golden eyes rose to meet Ichigo's and he swallowed hard. He'd known. At least, he was pretty sure he had. It made sense, given the way challenges worked. But hearing her say it like that, laying all the implications out as hard facts, was really fucking scary. Still, it was too late now to start second-guessing himself. The cuffs were on, his weapons gone. This was happening whether he wanted it to or not. 

Straightening his spine, he met Yoruichi's gaze and nodded as firmly as he could. Her answering smile was beatific. "Whatever it takes, eh, Ichi-kun?" she murmured. "Otherwise you might end up taking that deal with Kisuke after all."

So that was her plan. Good to know. He'd hate to think she was doing this out of the goodness of her heart.

With a quirk of his lips, Ichigo whispered back, "Over my dead body, Shihōin."

*

"I'm home," Byakuya called as he pushed open the door to the bar. Instead of the usual grumpy, 'What took you so long, I'm starving,' he was greeted by an ominous silence. That was worrying.

Over the past week or so, he and Renji had reached some kind of equilibrium, mainly based around Renji organising them both and Byakuya going along with whatever he suggested. It was easy, the path of least resistance, and since most of the time, Byakuya felt like he was floating anyway, it was logical to go along with it.

At least Renji's wake was a familiar place to be, if not particularly comfortable, because, pathetic though it was, Byakuya suspected the only thing keeping him sane right now was the hour he spent at the sentō every morning. Being away from Renji, even for that short amount of time, was just enough for him to centre himself after a night of unrelenting internal warfare. He no longer even tried to sleep, opting instead to creep from their shared bed the moment Renji dropped off, to spend the night by the door, fighting the urge to return and take what, for some reason, his mind kept telling him he was rightfully owed. 

He wasn't. Objectively he knew that. Renji was his own person, and Byakuya had abdicated all rights over him along with his rank and title. If Renji chose now to walk away, Byakuya would have no right to stop him, and yet the mere thought of Renji leaving tore at him in places and in ways that Byakuya couldn't fathom.

It wasn't just love. That was a feeling Byakuya knew all too intimately. When Isshin had killed his family, Byakuya had thought he might die from the loss. He'd felt gouged out, as though Isshin had taken his heart along with his father, but even that, awful as it had been, was nothing like this. Imagining Renji walking away now would be akin to losing Senbonzakura all over again, and Byakuya knew that was something he could not survive. 

And so, every morning, breathing chemical scented steam as hot water lapped around him, Byakuya did his best to reconstruct enough of himself to last through another day. A day made livable primarily through routine. Which, this morning, had changed. 

"Renji?" he called again, letting the door swing shut behind him. The bar was empty, though their usual table had several bentō laid out on it. Presumably breakfast, though of Renji, there was still no sign.

He was probably in the toilet and Byakuya was worrying for nothing. That didn't stop him from going to check, and finding the toilets empty did nothing to curb Byakuya's burgeoning panic. 'What ifs' spooled uncontrollably through his mind; the Gotei had found them, had taken Renji. Even now, he was being dragged back to Shugo.

Upstairs, a door suddenly opened and closed. Byakuya homed in on the sound, like a hunting dog on a scent. Voices followed, a quiet indistinguishable rumble, and then footsteps. That made Byakuya relax a little since the onmitsukidō would never be so careless. But, as the footsteps hit the top of the stairs, coming ever closer, another thought occurred; what if it wasn't the Gotei? What if it was Aizen? Renji might already be dead, or badly hurt again, once more caught up in that man's foul machinations…

"Good, you're back," Mendori commented gruffly as he came through the door behind the bar. Renji was right on his heels, scowling fiercely, but wonderfully, gloriously alive. Byakuya shuddered in utter relief. Mendori kept speaking as he stomped across the room. "Change of plans for today. Talk to ya partner. He'll fill ya in on the necessary details." And with that he was gone, first the inner then the outer doors slamming closed in his wake.

Byakuya waited until they were truly alone before turning to Renji, who was standing by their table, fiddling with something in his hand that he was glaring at as though it had mortally offended him. "What's happening?" Byakuya asked when no immediate offer of information seemed to be forthcoming.

For a moment it seemed as though Renji might ignore him, but then he snorted and said, "Call came in from Kutsuzawa. There's gonna be a meeting here at midday."

"I see," Byakuya replied, though he really didn't. It wasn't like they hadn't been warned. Tentatively, he asked, "This has upset you somehow?"

"Eh?" Renji replied, glancing up, his scowl turning into a frown of confusion. "No, why?"

"Because you seem disturbed by something." Rather than specify what exactly, Byakuya let his gaze fall to Renji's hands. Were those glasses?

Renji held them up and, yes, that was exactly what they were. Sunglasses, to be precise. Black ones. "I'm pissed because Mendori said I had to wear these," he said, then shook his head, eyes lowering again. "No, that ain't it. I just…" 

Words seemed to fail him for a long moment, then he said quietly, "Of all the things you did to me over the years, I actually liked the tattoos. They look good, made me feel good. And then the whipping and all that mess." He waved a hand at his own back, at the scars that still made guilt surge in Byakuya's gut every time he thought of them, because that should never have been allowed to happen. Never. "And I thought, never mind, eventually the scars'll heal enough and I'll get it redone, except…" 

Renji sighed hugely and finally made proper eye contact with Byakuya. His expression was sad and more than a bit lost. "Turns out no one likes them over here. Not the shopkeepers nor that old bag at the sentō. Not even Mendori, and he's got ink like he's a flipping Iba, so I'm left thinking, what now? I'm stuck here for the rest of eternity with ink on my face and a mess on my back that's gonna take a century or more to really disappear-"

"I'm sorry." The words blurted out entirely of their volition and Byakuya had to press the back of his hand to his mouth to stop any others from following them. As it was, Renji was gaping at him.

"For… what?" Renji asked finally.

For everything. Putting ink on your body without asking permission. Dragging you into this awful feud when it was none of your business. For not protecting you when I should have done, for not knowing enough to get you proper treatment for your back, and for everything since, all of which was utterly unforgivable.

But that was just words, unworthy of the weight they carried. Throwing such a paltry offering at Renji's feet would be nothing but an insult. As Byakuya's uncle had taught him many years ago, the best way of being sorry was not to repeat a mistake. You took the lesson, you learnt from it, and you moved on. There was no other way.

He bit back any more stupid confessions and said, "What do we need to do before Kutsuzawa arrives?"

Renji blinked at him before visibly giving himself a little shake. "Right, yeah. The usual clean up; Mendori said to make sure and check the toilets. Said there was a floater one time and the guy in charge ended up in real shit. Bastard thinks he's so funny." Renji grimaced. "Anyway, after that's sorted, it's security. Kutsuzawa will bring his own people, we just have to make sure the road's clear and the shops are all shut."

"It's a Saturday. Will they close for no reason?"

"They better had," Renji said, slipping the glasses into the pocket of his new shirt. It was a bright grass green with a wide collar and cuffs which Renji wore rolled up to show off his forearms. Which in all honesty was its only good feature. The colour clashed horribly with Renji's hair, but Byakuya had refrained from commenting when Renji had brought it home along with breakfast one morning, proudly announcing that he'd found it for next to nothing in a secondhand store. After all, just like his decision to stay or go, Renji's choice in clothing was no longer any of Byakuya's business.

The cleaning went quickly and efficiently. Between them, they'd developed a routine with Renji doing the higher harder to reach jobs while Byakuya squeezed into more inaccessible spaces. Added to which, doing the job everyday meant that there was very little to actually clean. The customers were, by and large, restrained and hygienic, though the hosts less so. Thankfully, Nic always made them tidy up after themselves if they were ill. Taking responsibility, he called it.

An hour before midday, Renji dashed off to do the rounds of the shops, and came back with a bemused expression on his face. "All they asked was for how long," he said, as they headed upstairs to get changed. "And it's quieter than the streets around the 12th out there right now, so I guess word must have spread."

Which meant this had to be a fairly regular occurrence, enough so that local businesses were aware of potential repercussions should they fail to obey the order to close. Byakuya wondered in passing what those repercussions might be. Not pleasant, having seen the way Kutsuzawa Hanna carried on. She reminded him of several members of his own clan. The ones who had no qualms using terms like 'gaki' when they thought Byakuya wasn't listening, and who wouldn't hesitate to strike those they believed were beneath them.

But not Renji. Never Renji. Byakuya's was the only hand allowed to be raised in that direction, and raise it he had, more than once in anger and often in utter frustration. When Renji had first arrived at the estate, he'd lacked even a basic grasp of discipline and manners, and had been unable to sit still long enough for more than the most perfunctory of conversations. Byakuya had tried everything, drawing deep on his uncle's techniques to control wayward boys, until eventually giving up in despair and handing Renji over to his father's old squad leader with instructions to knock some sense into him. Renji, of course, had thrived under the rough attention, and had returned a properly trained soldier, which had been what Byakuya had wanted all along. 

What he'd never intended was to fall in love with his new subordinate, but there it was. Done, it couldn't be undone, even if Byakuya wished it, which he didn't. He just wished he'd been kinder with it. Looking back, there was so much he regretted. So many things they'd never had a chance to do.

"Hey, you're drifting again," Renji said suddenly.

Byakuya blinked at him. Renji was doing up his tie, and making a mess of it as he always did. Byakuya waved helpful fingers at him, knowing he'd need the favour returned later, since his own inability with the garment rivalled Renji's. 

Huffing a sigh, Renji tugged out the knot he'd been tying and stepped closer, the loose ends dangling against his chest. "Stupid fiddly things," he muttered, a sentiment that Byakuya wholeheartedly endorsed.

He reached out, grasping the two ends of the tie and, as he did so, his knuckles grazed Renji's shirt. The heat of him beneath the thin fabric took Byakuya's breath away and for a moment the desire to touch more and for longer was almost overwhelming. It took everything he had to school his hands into motion and even then they were clumsy and uncoordinated. 

"You okay?" Renji said, when he flubbed the knot for the third time. 

Byakuya nodded, pulled the ends free and tried again. This one went no better and when Renji's hand closed around his wrist in a tight scorching band, Byakuya flinched in anticipation of a reprimand. Was his incompetence to deny him even this small contact?

But all Renji said was, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere."

The words rang through Byakuya like a temple gong. Just the thought of Renji leaving him was terrifying so, to hear that… But no, that wasn't what Renji had meant. He was merely talking about their task today and him remaining until the tie was correctly knotted.

Swallowing back a sudden surge of emotion, Byakuya took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Renji's fingers unwound slowly and his hand dropped back to his side, clearing for the field for Byakuya to try once again.

Once they were both properly dressed, Renji headed into the office. Situated at the front of the building, it commanded an excellent view of the road and thus would enable them to know when Kutsuzawa was arriving. Byakuya went downstairs, so as to ensure the doors were opened in a timely manner. As a bonus, it also gave him a little space away from Renji again, though so far this morning he'd managed to stay in remarkable control. Perhaps he was improving.

"Incoming!" Renji bellowed several minutes later as he thundered down the stairs. Byakuya pulled open the front door. 

His heart immediately leapt into his throat, not because of the long black car pulling up outside, but because of what was opening in the alley across the street. A senkaimon. 

Aizen had found them.

The worlds parted. Pulse thundering, Byakuya froze, waiting for the parade of monsters that was bound to emerge; packs of hollows like those in Matsuyama, or maybe shinigami that themselves had been hollowfied. 

What actually came out was a small flood of brightly dressed figures of various shapes and sizes. The most obvious was a man, vast in both height and girth, with bright pink hair and moustache. He towered above the others, who kaleidoscoped around him until Byakuya felt dizzy watching them. 

Were they even real? Was this some kind of hallucination? Perhaps some trick of Aizen's, but if so, why choose something so strange, so surreal? It would make more sense to simply hide the senkaimon entirely. 

As Byakuya was trying to make sense of what he was seeing, Renji arrived, took one look at the scene, frowned and muttered, "What the hell?"

"You can see them?" Byakuya replied, not sure if that made the situation worse or better. If Renji could see them, at least they weren't an hallucination. Or at least nothing born of his own personal madness.

"Yeah, but keep your voice down. We're not supposed to be able to, remember? And look who's in charge." 

Careful to avoid making eye contact with any of the prowling souls, Byakuya quickly sought out the one they were protecting. He was easily distinguishable since, unlike the others, he was wearing a gigai. And that, more than anything he'd seen so far, put Byakuya on his toes. Excepting the ones he and Renji were wearing, gigai came from only one source; the 12th; which meant this man, whoever he was, had to have connections with the Gotei. 

A shinigami? His clothing was black, but it wasn't a shihakushō, and the rest of the souls didn't look like shinigami either, dressed as they were in such a motley assortment of colours and fashions. Yet who else had the ability to pass through the dangai unmolested by the cleaner? 

Byakuya looked more closely at the leader, the one Renji seemed to feel was so important. He had short dark hair, was of middling height and unprepossessing presence, and was not the slightest bit familiar. He definitely wasn't Aizen however, and that in itself was something of a relief.

A car door slammed. In all the fuss about the souls, Byakuya had forgotten about the others. 

He glanced over to find two most definitely human men standing beside the long black car, both checking out their surroundings with sharp eyes. One of them was about Renji's height, though about twice as wide and somewhat lacking in the neck department. The other reminded Byakuya strongly of Mendori, he had the same thin face and slightly protuberant eyes, except this man's hair had a silver streak running through it from brow to ear. His father perhaps? If not that, then some other close relative, Byakuya was sure.

Apparently happy with what he found, the Mendori lookalike tossed his cigarette, strode to the rear of the car and opened the door. The tall mustachioed man who climbed out was the oyabun, Kutsuzawa, Byakuya supposed and seemed as human as the other two. It was easy to see where his daughters got their sense of style. The man's three-piece suit was perfectly fitted and, despite the cane he carried in his hand and the patch he wore over his left eye, he still moved with the practised grace of a fighter. As he got out, he also paused to check the time on an elegant gold pocket watch. 

"This is all starting to make a hell of a lot more sense," Renji murmured as Kutsuzawa slipped the watch away and greeted the man in the gigai cordially.

"How so?" Byakuya enquired, reassured by this familiar state of affairs between them. Renji was so efficient at remembering faces that Byakuya had relied on him for years for this type of insight.

"Because the guy in the gigai is Iba Tetsuzaemon," Renji replied, just as Kutsuzawa turned towards the club and gestured for Iba to accompany him.

Mendori-san and the bodyguard immediately moved to take up flanking positions, giving every appearance of being on high alert, yet oddly unaware of the two souls who'd fallen in behind Iba. The rest of the souls spread out to form a perimeter, only the large pink man remaining by the still open senkaimon. Securing the way, Byakuya supposed a little muzzily, his mind still reeling from the sudden revelation of the guest's identity. 

Iba, now there was a name that even Byakuya couldn't forget, because they were the family who controlled Seireitei's underworld. The current head was Iba Chikane and, as Byakuya understood it, nothing happened within those few spirit miles of The Pits without her explicit consent. Every business there paid its dues, and even the Gotei walked carefully around her. 

Not because she possessed some vast reserve of reiryoku, because as a non-shinigami that was impossible. Any one of the captains could without doubt lay her low with a single sword stroke. No, it was a different kind of power that Iba-neesan wielded; connections, information, influence. She sat at the centre of a web that stretched across the whole of Seireitei, perhaps across all of Soul Society itself, and that web was as deadly as it was delicate. It was said that to break a single strand of it was to unleash a torrent of misfortune upon your head, none of which could ever be traced back to any source except ill-luck. 

Even the nobility were not exempt from her intrigues, though her continued survival was testament to her not having targeted anyone of significance. Minor families only, or so rumour had it. Some said her hand lay behind the bankruptcy of the Kira clan and the subsequent murder-suicide of the head and his wife. Of course there was no proof and, since in general the services the Iba provided were valuable above and beyond any potential threat they might pose, no action was ever taken for that or any other matter.

In short, for a stationary target, Iba-neesan was elusive, and for a commoner, she was uncommonly powerful. Now Byakuya understood why Renji had said what he did. The fact that a member of her family was here in the living world, where no non-shinigami was supposed to be, meant she had someone inside the Gotei. Not to mention, her involvement with these yakuza had just made his and Renji's situation here very complicated indeed.

Byakuya glanced up at Renji, seeking some small reassurance, and found himself looking at a stranger. Over the past weeks, he'd grown accustomed to Renji's short hair, but the addition of the wrap-around sunglasses rendered him completely unrecognisable. A great advantage considering their situation. If only Byakuya had something similar to disguise his own features.

Renji quirked a slight smile at him and murmured, "Relax. No one's expecting to find the Kuchiki clan-head working security in Tokyo. Anyway, no one'll recognise you without the kenseikan."

That was perhaps true. Even so, Byakuya resolved to keep his head down. 

As the group drew level with Renji and Byakuya, Kutsuzawa slowed, glancing quickly between the two of them and said something under his breath to Mendori-san before continuing on with Iba.

Once he'd gone, Mendori-san jerked his head at Byakuya. "You," he said rudely. "Upstairs. On the door." Then he glanced back at his larger companion and added, "Stay put. Make sure no one does anything dumb." His gaze returned to Renji for a long and meaningful moment, holding until Renji dipped a respectful bow. At that, Mendori-san grunted and followed his master inside. The big man stayed behind and gave Byakuya an expectant look.

The last thing Byakuya wanted to do was enter the club without Renji at his back, especially since it was obvious from what just happened that Kutsuzawa didn't trust them and wanted them separated for security reasons. But given the circumstances, he had little choice. Nodding at Renji, and getting a flash of a grin in reply, he went inside. 

One of the souls guarding Iba had stopped just by the inner door, the other by the bottom of the stairs. Byakuya walked past both without acknowledging them in any way, not a difficult task for someone brought up surrounded by servants.

By the time he got to the top of the stairs there was no sign of either Kutsuzawa or Iba. Only Mendori-san was there, standing outside the office with his arms folded. Silently, he pointed at the spot on the other side of the door, which Byakuya quickly took, preparing himself to not drift for as long as it took for the meeting to be over.

As soon as he took his place, he realised that the door was ajar and that he could hear Kutsuzawa and Iba conversing inside the office. Their voices were low but quite audible from where he was standing.

"It's good to see you again, Tetsuzaemon-aniki. Your mother's well, I hope?" That was Kutsuzawa, and Byakuya might not know the man but he was more than familiar with that tone of voice. He'd heard it a thousand times from men hoping to curry favour with the Kuchiki clan-head.

"She's not pleased," a second, rougher voice said. By a process of elimination, that had to be Iba. "The goods you sent didn't work how you said. Several of our guys got killed."

Byakuya's interest perked up immediately. What sort of 'goods' could an Iba be importing from the living world? And, more to the point, what sort of imported goods killed people?

A long moment of silence was followed by Kutsuzawa saying, "I'm very sorry to hear that. Perhaps they were just unlucky?"

It was a good attempt at shifting the blame, but Iba wasn't having any of it. There was a distinct growl in his voice when he replied, "I know from bad luck, Giriko, and this weren't it. Those things were crap, end of story."

"Then I'll be sure to have words with my supplier," Kutsuzawa returned immediately. He really was not willing to take responsibility for the failure, whatever it was. Byakuya found himself curious as to why. It seemed at odds with his previous fawning.

Iba grunted. "That's not gonna to replace the five men we lost. They were trained fighters."

"You have my deepest sympathy, but my dues are paid up for this quarter. Unless you want those queers my daughter hired. She's seems struck, but I've no use for them."

Kutsuzawa had to mean them, though why he was using that turn of phrase Byakuya had no idea. A barely suppressed snort from the man beside him suggested it was less than complimentary. Perhaps something to do with Renji's tattoos?

More worrying than any of that though was Kutsuzawa's offer to hand them over to the Iba. Quincy gigai might be excellent quality, but they wouldn't hold up under an attempt to kill them, and if that happened, their identities would be quickly revealed.

Iba was speaking again. "No, they've not got enough power. I told you before, we only want the ones with power." Byakuya stiffened as Iba continued, "Look, they don't got to be family. What I need is people who know what they're doing with this stuff. Dig up a few outsiders with the right power levels and skills and I'll have someone look 'em over before we take 'em back." 

"I'll do what I can," said Kutsuzawa, sounding unimpressed, though Byakuya hardly heard him. He was far more concerned over what Iba had said. They were targeting humans with spiritual pressure and removing them to Soul Society without performing konso! Not only was that strictly against every law, it was also deeply disturbing. What possible use could they have for such souls? 

"You'll manage," Iba replied. "Now, about that second order."

"The first part's already here. You can take them with you when you go. The other will be with us in…" Kutsuzawa paused, to check a calendar perhaps? "Three weeks, one day and five hours. My apologies for the delay, but there was a sudden death at a choke point and the new man needed a bit of persuading before we could move forward."

Iba grunted again. "I don't care for reasons. Just don't let it happen again. We're on a deadline-"

"Oi, quit listening so hard, else I'm gonna start thinking Hanna-chan's right," Mendori-san suddenly snapped, drowning out what Iba was saying.

Byakuya was so immersed in the conversation in the office that it took him a second to realise that the comment was aimed at him. "About what?" he asked finally, and somewhat grudgingly since he'd much rather continue eavesdropping. 

Mendori-san smirked. "She reckons your man for a cop, after the way he let her push him around. I told her a cop would've fought back as cover and that taking it's just the way you lot are. You like being on the receiving end." 

He seemed to think he'd made a point of some wit or significance. Whatever it was, it escaped Byakuya who answered only the part he understood. "Renji isn't a policeman." 

His fellow guard stared at him for a second, blank-faced with apparent surprise, and then roared with laughter. A meaty fist broached the distance between them and hit Byakuya in the upper arm, a gesture he'd seen others use on Renji. Since Renji had never retaliated with violence, Byakuya schooled himself into doing the same, and simply smiled as much as he could, since Mendori-san seemed so amused.

"Heh," the older man said after a few seconds, his mirth winding down. He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I guess you're not so bad. Kentarō said you were a princess. I reckon you're just _boke_."

An idiot, mad. The accuracy of the insult stung. Byakuya averted his gaze, hoping the man was finished. It was not to be. 

"That aside," Mendori-san continued, his tone suddenly deadly serious. "I'm letting you know right now, any of that what you heard gets out, and there won't be a place in this world you can hide. Got it?"

Byakuya nodded. This one, he did get, and he also now understood why he'd been brought upstairs and the door left ajar. This was a test, of sorts, to see if he, and presumably Renji, could be trusted to keep their mouths shut. 

"Good. Now get yer pansy ass down to the bar and fetch up some decent sake. You can't expect Kutsuzawa-san to wrap up a business deal dry."

*

If his hair had still been long enough, Renji would have been tearing it out by the time the club closed for the night. It was hours since Kutsuzawa had left, longer yet since they'd seen the back of Iba and his people, along with several large boxes that Renji and No-neck had hauled up from the storage cellar, and still he'd not had a chance for a private word with Byakuya. But finally the last of the guests were gone, the basic clean up was done, and they were alone.

"Well?" Renji said, as he locked the doors behind Nic and the two drunken hosts he was escorting home. 

"Not here," Byakuya replied, his gaze shifting uneasily around the bar as though someone might still be listening. Who, Renji didn't know, but he followed Byakuya up the stairs anyway and into their room. Only when they closed that door behind them did Byakuya seem to relax a little. "The Iba are involving these humans in Soul Society business," he said, voice barely above a whisper as he tugged at his tie. 

"Yeah, I kind of noticed that," Renji replied, turning his back on Byakuya and slipping his jacket off his shoulders. As they both undressed, Byakuya continued with the debrief, painting a worrying picture of what the Iba might be up to. That they were stealing powerful souls was particularly bothersome. The ones Renji had watched outside the club had seemed pretty standard for Iba people, but with his gigai suppressing his ability to sense reiatsu, it was impossible to tell how strong they'd been.

By the time Byakuya was done, Renji was down to his undies, his clothing tossed in an untidy heap on the floor ready to be picked up later. Reaching for his old hoodie, relegated to pyjamas now that he had his smart new shirt, Renji mused, "What the hell are they doing with those souls when they get them over there anyway?" 

"I assume, turning them into pit fighters," Byakuya replied, the sound of cloth over bare skin suggesting he was putting his nightwear on too. "Perhaps fewer souls are coming through the proving grounds than in previous years?"

Tugging the hoodie over his head, Renji frowned. "I've no idea on hard numbers, but if anything I reckon it's the opposite. There's definitely more pits opening up anyway, and that'd not be happening if they had a shortage of fighters." 

But what else could it be?

Whatever it was, it had definitely sparked Byakuya's interest. Tonight he was so focused, he seemed almost normal. 

A quiet thump came from behind him. Renji turned to find Byakuya, wearing the pink flowered yukata Renji had bought for him, laying out the futon. It was a sight that still did Renji's head in, even after a couple of weeks of watching it happen. There was something fundamentally off about a Kuchiki making his own bed, not to mention sweeping floors and washing dishes. Renji didn't think he'd ever really get used to it. Even so, he grabbed the pillows and quilts off the shelf and joined in.

With both of them working, they finished the bed quickly, Renji only then getting around to hanging his suit. As he did so, Byakuya picked up a hairbrush and took a seat on the futon. "Iba did say the people he lost were trained fighters," Byakuya said, gathering his hair forward over his shoulder. "And that he wanted replacements who knew what they were doing. Perhaps they simply don't wish to invest in training more." 

As he spoke, he began brushing out his hair in long even strokes. Renji watched, captivated by the way it gleamed in the dim light, like a spill of wet ink across new paper. Soft as silk it'd be if he ran his hands through it. Not that he would, because that way lay disaster, but there was no harm in looking. Especially right now, since Byakuya's eyes were closed.

Was this why the guys called him a princess? He was definitely beautiful enough, sat like that with his legs tucked under him, all elegant pale limbs and dark shadows. Though he still looked tired and definitely wasn't sleeping properly. Byakuya might think he was being clever but Renji had shared a bedroom with him for half a century. He knew that Byakuya was getting up when he thought Renji was asleep, and spending the night sitting by the door. 

It had bothered Renji to start with, but then he'd remembered Ichigo's cousin, the Quincy who'd been so damned upset when he realised he'd fallen asleep and almost killed the guy in the cell with him. If Byakuya was doing the same to stop himself from attacking Renji, then who was Renji to tell him otherwise. 

Suddenly aware of grey eyes watching him in turn, Renji wrenched his gaze away and got back to sticking his clothes on hangers. "I can't see the Iba picking up many souls with the right kind of skills for pit fighters," he said as he worked. "Humans these days are more likely to know how to use a computer than a weapon." Though, from what he'd seen about modern weapons on the television and internet, the two were practically synonymous. 

Lethal too. It was good thing technology like that didn't travel well between worlds, because if that kind of thing fell into the wrong hands, the Gotei might just be in trouble. Not that it could happen. Simple stuff, like clothes, converted from kishi to reishi no problem, but more complicated stuff tended to break down or blow up when it was moved between worlds. He remembered someone smuggling a motorcycle over once, years ago when he'd been in training. The thing had lasted about a week before it blew up, taking the smuggler with it. Scientists, like Kurotsuchi might be able to keep any technology stable for longer, Renji supposed, but you'd still need people with the right skills to operate it and finding someone like that in Soul Society would be next to impossible.

Unless you killed them and sent them straight over.

Several facts rearranged themselves in Renji's head: the boxes Iba had taken back with him, exploding imports, Iba being pissed about losing trained fighters, his gigai; and the picture they painted was worrying because this had the potential to be a nightmare. Maybe. And honestly, just the idea of Kurotsuchi being part of it made Renji want to puke. 

And he was, Renji was sure of that now he thought about it. That lock thing that had almost screwed him and Ichigo over on the way out of Kurotsuchi's labs had been a digital keypad, and no way was that something Kurotsuchi had invented. There weren't enough snotty drippy bits on it for starters. Plus that room where the Quincy had been held had been packed with computers. At the time, Renji hadn't recognised them. Now he knew exactly what they'd been, and what they implied. 

Somehow, Kurotsuchi was importing tech from the living world and adjusting it for use in Soul Society. 

Realising he'd been stood there holding his trousers and staring blankly at the wall for a good couple of minutes, Renji slid his tongue over dry lips and tested the waters. "If someone let rip with, say, a rocket launcher, back home, what d'you reckon would happen?"

Silence.

Renji glanced round to find Byakuya, still with hairbrush in hand, frowning up at him pensively. "You think that's what Iba is buying?" 

"I have no clue, but just say he was, what would happen if someone used one in Soul Society." Renji had a couple of ideas, but Byakuya might have a different take on it.

Byakuya sighed a little, his gaze cutting to the side as he gave it serious thought. "I suppose, very little," he said after a few moments. "There may be some property damage, but any seated officer would be able to defend against such a blast easily. Always assuming the thing didn't explode the first time it was used, which from what Iba said, this import seems to have done." 

That was pretty much what Renji thought. "What if they fired something else like, I don't know, some kind of kidō missile?"

"But such weapons already exist, so why bother…" Byakuya began, then glanced back at Renji, starting to frown. "Renji, where is all this coming from? Did you discover something else while I was upstairs this afternoon?"

"Discover…?" It took a second to realise what Byakuya was getting at. "Oh, you mean from the rest of the guys Iba brought with him," Renji said, finally wrestling his trousers onto the hanger. "No. They stayed right away from the entrance, up on the roofs mainly. But those boxes that Iba took back with him could have had anything in them." 

"And you're convinced they were weapons," Byakuya persisted. "Why not machines for playing music or watching films? Such contraband would surely fetch a good price down in the Pits."

"And keep people from spending all their time and money at the Iba's fights? I doubt it." Renji shook his head, trying to put his suspicions into words. "Okay, so not weapons, but something. I mean, you said yourself that the guys who got killed were trained fighters, and no way is Kurotsuchi not involved." He outlined the human style tech he'd come across in the 12th's labs the first time he'd been there. The second time he'd not really been in the mood for exploration.

As he spoke, Byakuya's brows rose and he began to look thoughtful again. "I had reckoned Kurotsuchi's involvement minimal," he said once Renji had finished, "But that does sound suspicious."

"Exactly. And he's gotta be expecting some kind of pay-off. I dunno what exactly." Renji shrugged, unable to be more coherent. "But just the idea of it scares the shit out of me." For some reason, he couldn't shift the image of the 12th running rampant through the streets of Seireitei. Damn it, he should have asked Ichigo for an update on all the latest news. Bird boy was useless, and the one time he'd tried asking Rukia, she'd shut him down so fast he'd not bothered to try again. 

"Then we shall warn Ichigo the next time he comes. Forewarned, he'll be in a position to act in the Gotei's best interests should the need arise," Byakuya said. He'd finished brushing his hair and had started settling down for the night. 

Renji stared at him with more than a bit of disbelief. "How can you still think that way?" he asked, quickly adding his jacket to the hanger and hooking it on the front of the bedding shelf. "They'd execute you in a heartbeat after what you did to Central."

Byakuya's face blanked immediately, his gaze dropping, and Renji could have kicked himself for bringing it all up again. Byakuya had been doing really well tonight, this conversation the closest thing to normal they'd managed in forever, and now look at him. It was like someone had drained all the life from him. His skin wasn't just pale, it was deathly, and fingers that just minutes ago had been deftly wielding a hairbrush now clutched at the quilt.

"You okay?" Renji asked, pulling back the quilt on his side. 

There was nothing for a moment and then Byakuya raised his chin and actually met Renji's eyes. "No," he said. "And I worry that I never will be again."

Renji huffed a sigh and climbed into bed, lying down and tugging Byakuya with him. "I told ya before, you'll be fine. We'll get Senbonzakura back soon and-"

"You should go to Karakura tomorrow," Byakuya put in suddenly.

Renji peered down at him, but all he could see was the top of Byakuya's head resting on his chest. "And leave you here?" he said. "I don't think that's a-"

Again Byakuya interrupted, his palm pressing against the arch of Renji's ribs as he said, "It's better for me when you're not here. I don't know why, but the closer we are, the more difficult it is stay focused."

That was a bit of a shocker. Renji held his silence, digesting this new bit of information. It fit the facts. Byakuya tended to be much less distracted in the mornings when he got back from his bath, and hadn't Renji just been thinking that he'd been great this evening, when he'd spent most of the day away from Renji in Kutsuzawa's company. 

Even so, it kind of hurt. Renji had been doing his best to keep the pair of them safe and together, despite all the shit Byakuya had done to him back at the safe-room, and now here he was being told, 'go away, I'm better off without you'.

"And when you say focused, you mean…?" Renji said, because he was an idiot and couldn't help poking a sore spot, even when it was his own.

A sound not unlike a growl came from Byakuya. "I want you, Renji, all the time," he said, and the hand that'd been resting against Renji's ribs slid downward to cup something else. Renji shivered, torn between enjoying the familiar touch, and fear at what it might lead to. Deep inside him, Zabimaru seemed to shiver as well, and together they held their breath as a fingers stroked teasingly up Renji's length, then curled into a fist. But not around Renji. 

The air in Renji's lungs rushed out with a quiet whoosh as the fist rose and pressed tight to the side of Byakuya's face, almost smothering what followed. "But at the same time, if I fall into you, I may never find my way back out, and it scares me." They were quiet words and it didn't take an expert to hear the shame in them. The great Kuchiki Byakuya admitting to being afraid. 

Forgetting his own worries, Renji dipped and placed a kiss on silky hair. "I won't let anything happen to you," he said.

That same hair rubbed across Renji's chest as Byakuya shook his head. "Not for myself. I'm beyond caring whether I survive this or not. It's you I'm scared for, Renji." He shifted, propping himself on one elbow, though he made no attempt to look in Renji's direction, and restlessly plucked at the bits of tape residue still on the hoodie. "I don't want to hurt you again. There's been so much of that. Too much of it, for far too long. And if I get inside, I'll tear you apart, I know I will."

Renji wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. It was true. However Byakuya had done it, he'd almost managed to break into parts of Renji that never should be exposed.

"So please." Now Byakuya made eye contact, and it burned with so much desperation that Renji had to swallow hard to weather it. "Go to Karakura in the morning. Train until you're back to full strength. Make it so that I can never hurt you again, even if…" The expression faltered, grey eyes clouding over just slightly. Byakuya's chin dipped. "Even if I do lose control again."

And shit, what the hell was Renji supposed to say to that.

"Okay," he managed finally. "But on one condition. It doesn't take two of us to run security in the evenings. So while I handle the drunks downstairs, you sit jinzen up here." Byakuya frowned and Renji just knew there was an argument coming. He pressed a finger to Byakuya's lips. "At least try. If it doesn't work, then sleep instead. I know you've been sneaking out at night, so just think of it as us taking different shifts like we used to, okay?"

For a second it looked like Byakuya would still try and argue, then all the fight went out of him. "I will try," he said, sounding exhausted. "If it will help you to start training again, I will try."


	12. Preservation Reservation

"The first time I wore one of these, Renji gave me pants to go with it," Ichigo complained, looking between the prisoner's plain white yukata in his hands and the three guards standing in the doorway of his cell. 

No reaction. Not even a twitch. 

With an exaggerated sigh - he'd only agreed to be a prisoner, not a good one - Ichigo turned his back and began stripping off his finery. Maybe demanding to be brought to the Senzaikyū had been a bad idea, but with the only other option being the dungeons at the 2nd, which would put him way too close to Urahara's sticky fingers for comfort, it had seemed preferable. Yoruichi hadn't argued either, her gaze straying to Kyōraku before she'd nodded and said, 'Yeah, okay. You can stay there. They've got pretty good security.'

They also didn't have many people locked up, on this level at least. Given how dumb Seireitei's idea of 'justice' was, Ichigo had been expecting the place to be packed, but as they wound through labyrinthine corridors, cell after cell had been empty. Presumably, everyone was down in Shugo not being supervised properly, or if they were lucky enough to be nobility, like Ichigo's dad, in private cells. Either way, by the time they finally stopped, Ichigo was pretty sure he had this whole wing of the prison to himself.

Except for the guards, that was. One of them came into the cell to collect his clothing, while the other two hovered at the doorway looking nervous. Ichigo had no idea why. Not only had he agreed to be here, they also had him collared, for fuck's sake. 

His fingers strayed self-consciously to the band around his neck. It wasn't exactly tight, but the effects of it crept constantly across his skin. A reiatsu limiter, Yoruichi had called it. It functioned by trapping his reiatsu inside his body, which had the dual effect of preventing him from using kidō and stopping the sekkiseki in the walls from draining him dry. Useful, if he was to stand a chance in any challenge match. Ichigo guessed he should be grateful for small mercies.

The yukata turned out to be breezy in places that Ichigo wasn't used to. Once the guards had gone, locking the door behind them, Ichigo plopped down on the futon and tugged the single blanket up over his lap. Yoruichi had said it would be at least a day until a challenge could be arranged. In the meantime, Ichigo had no way to fill his time except by talking to himself, so it was a good thing that that was top of his list of things to do.

Bundling up all his other concerns, like Chad and his sisters and, hells, everything else in his life right now, he shoved them into a box labelled, 'Later,' and prepared to sit jinzen without his swords. It was doable, in theory, just not as easy since you had to know where you going in order to get there. Or something like that anyway. Renji had tried to explain it once, but Ichigo hadn't really been listening. Either way, with how close he was to his zanpakutō spirits, this should be a cinch. 

_Zangetsu? Ossan?_ Ichigo called into the recesses of his mind.

No answer.

He tried again, recalling that odd falling twisting sensation he always got just before he ended up in his inner world. 

Still nothing. Okay, maybe this wasn't going to be as simple as he thought.

Hopping up, he did a quick round of his small cell, checking the single high window with its unobstructed view of the night sky, and the door, which was still locked, before sitting down and trying again. Same problem. The focus was there, as was the will to visualise, and yet nothing happened. 

By his fifth failure, Ichigo was getting desperate. 

Shaking out his arms like he was about to start lifting weights, he bounced around the cell on his toes. This was dumb. The first time he and Ossan had met, Ichigo hadn't even had a sword, and he'd made the connection a hundred times since, even though his swords had only been real for the last couple of months. In theory, this should be easy!

Maybe the collar was blocking him somehow. Yoruichi hadn't said that would happen, but then she wasn't exactly known for handing out information free and gratis. 

A door opening somewhere in the building at least provided a distraction. Ichigo pottered over to his door and craned his neck to peer out through the small window. There was nothing much to see. The stone-paved corridor outside was empty, as was the wooden bench opposite. 

"Hello?" Ichigo called. 

Silence. Not even an echo.

Were the guards even still there? Maybe they'd left and Ichigo was all alone in this huge building. Now that wasn't creepy in the slightest.

A loud creak heralded the door at the end of the corridor opening, making Ichigo jump, and a moment later two figures came into view. The one in the lead was one of the guards, a surly looking guy with a bowl cut. The other, tall and lanky with shoulder length hair and a scarred face, was also familiar, though it took Ichigo a second to place him since they'd never been formally introduced. Yuzu's mentor at the 4th, and one of the people who'd testified against Renji during that stupid post-sentencing show-trial Kyōraku had staged.

"Tsukishima-sensei," Ichigo said warily, as the pair stopped outside the cell. The guard gestured for Ichigo to step back and, once he had, immediately began unlocking the door. "What are you doing here?" 

"Giving you a check up, Shiba-taichō-sama," Tsukishima replied, bowing slightly around the white bag he carried slung across his chest. "I understand there was a suspected case of poisoning at your house this evening."

There wasn't much Ichigo could say to that. Honestly, he was just glad the visit wasn't about Yuzu. One of his more niggling distractions when he'd been trying to sit jinzen involved Unohana-taichō turning up to tell him she was taking Yuzu back since he obviously wasn't fit to look after her.

The door opened. Before coming into the cell, Tsukishima spoke quietly to the guard, "Wait out here. I'll give you a call when I'm done."

The guard glanced briefly at Ichigo, who shrugged in unasked for consent. There was nothing wrong with him, but Tsukishima was a doctor, so it all seemed pretty standard. With a bow and no backward glance, the guard left, closing and, Ichigo noted, locking the door behind him.

"That's better," Tsukishima said, unslinging his bag. "Now, let's take a look at you."

Having been through this sort of thing under Takata-sensei several times, Ichigo didn't argue. At least the yukata made access easier, even if Tsukishima being that much taller did make things a bit awkward. 

Surprisingly warm hands were quickly pressing across his belly, their fingers glowing a gentle green here and there with healing kidō. It felt very odd coming into contact with Ichigo's trapped reiatsu and he had to suppress a shudder several times.

"Curious," Tsukishima said after a few moments. "I was told the poison was some form of Quincy reiryoku and, though there's certainly traces of damage, it seems well on its way to being completely healed." He stood up straight, and frowned down at Ichigo. "You are something of an enigma, Shiba-sama. Even as a Quincy hybrid, it should have done more than this. How much of the rice did you eat?"

"A whole bowl," Ichigo replied, thinking back as he began retying the yukata. "It tasted kind of spicy and made my guts rumble some, but that was all."

Tsukishima shook his head in apparent confusion. "Well, I suppose I'd better check your back," he said. "No, don't bother undoing again, just slip the top down your arms."

Ichigo did as he was told, and the process quickly got repeated across his back, with specific attention paid to his lungs. Thorough was the word that sprung to mind and Ichigo was starting to understand why Yuzu liked this guy so much. He gave off a really trustworthy vibe.

The blade sliced him through from shoulder to spine. Shock froze Ichigo to the spot until his knees failed and he fell forwards, the sword sliding from his body with a sucking sensation that brought bile rushing to his throat. His hands hit the ground, jarring his whole body, and he knelt there waiting for blood to start falling.

And waited.

There was no blood. 

Impossible. 

Trembling, Ichigo reached up to press fingers against the wound.

There was no wound. 

There wasn't even any pain.

"Are you all right, Shiba-sama?" 

Ichigo blinked. That was Tsukishima, his friend…? Who had stabbed him…? No, that made no sense. Why would his friend…? 

"Shiba-sama, speak to me please, you're starting to worry me."

"Ichigo. Just call me Ichigo." It came out croaked, but had to be said because Tsukishima was his friend, right? There were memories… distinct ones of Tsukishima… the challenge arena? Yes, he'd stood with Byakuya to fight for Ichigo and his sisters. Without him, they'd be gone, taken by the 12th and Urahara- 

"That was easier than I thought it'd be," Tsukishima said, appearing in Ichigo's line of sight. He was crouching down. "Why don't you sit, you look like you could do with a bit of breather."

That sounded like a shit hot idea. Ichigo kind of slumped sideways, his whole body feeling like it'd been run over by something large and hard. 

"Better?" Tsukishima asked, deep concern right there in his voice.

Ichigo squinted at him. For some reason he still felt sick. And anxious, like he was expecting the other shoe to drop any second, which was stupid because here was Tsukishima, his good friend. The man who'd been there for him through everything and was here now, checking that Ichigo was okay when all the rest of Seireitei either wanted him dead or strapped to a dissecting table. If there was anyone Ichigo knew he could trust, it was this guy. 

Who had just stabbed him.

No, that was stupid. He must have dreamed it. 

Ichigo frowned up at the ceiling. "I guess I wasn't quite as healed as I thought."

"Quick and dirty inserts take some people that way. Personally I prefer something slower," Tsukishima replied, making no sense at all. Ichigo listened carefully anyway because this was Tsukishima-sensei, his friend. "Right now you need to tell me about Yuzu. Where did she go?"

His sister? Ichigo stared at the ceiling some more, trying to remember. It wasn't easy. His mind seemed hung up on memories of Tsukishima, and Tsukishima hadn't been there when Ichigo told Chad-

Hang on, that wasn't right. "You were there," he said, turning to look at Tsukishima again. "Outside the house, remember?"

"Yes, I know, and if things still worked the way they used to, we'd have no need of all this," Tsukishima smiled that comforting smile of his that always made Ichigo's heart lift even at the darkest of times. "Unfortunately they don't, so remind me again, what did you say?"

Ichigo cast his mind back. Koniwa had already left, so it was just him and Chad. "To get Karin and Yuzu, and get out of Seireitei."

"Good, yes. Very sensible. Who will go with them do you think?"

Ichigo shrugged. "Apart from Chad, no one, I guess."

Tsukishima's expression turned into a frown, which was wrong on so many levels. Fuelled by a desperate kind of guilt, Ichigo searched his mind for anything that might help. "Take, maybe. She pretty much sticks to Yuzu like glue, though I dunno if she was even home. Fuck." This was so bad. He'd sent his baby sisters out into Rukonagai with no one to look after them except Chad. What the hell had he been thinking, when Tsukishima had been right there beside him all along?

He rolled onto his side and clutched at Tsukishima's shihakushō. "You're my friend. Find them for me. Look after them. Please!"

Strong fingers closed around his so tightly that it hurt. "Oh, we intend on finding them all right. Where were they heading?"

The question twisted in Ichigo's mind, getting subsumed by memories; Tsukishima calling for him on the way to school, Tsukishima serving alongside him at the 6th, Tsukishima with him at the 12th as they saved Uryū. He shook his head, trying to think straight. "West, to Rokushō."

"What's in Rokushō?"

It was like standing in the face of a hurricane. Memories battered at him: Tsukishima being beaten by bricks in Ichigo's place, Tsukishima entering the arena to protect him and his sisters, Tsukishima being ripped apart by Yamada's shikai. 

"Answer me! What is in Rokushō!"

Tsukishima bandaging his broken arm, Tsukishima holding him after momma died, Tsukishima- Tsukishima…

The world swirled up and swallowed Ichigo whole. As he went, he thought he heard Tsukishima shouting at him, calling him names. But that couldn't be right, because Tsukishima-sensei was his friend.

*

Despite the heavy coat around her shoulders, the wind cut through her like she was naked. Yuzu shivered and huddled closer to Sado's side, embarrassment gone in the face of possibly freezing to death. At least he hadn't had to carry her all the way here. For the first part of the journey, through the sewers which ran beneath Seireitei's streets, she'd been able to walk. It was only since they'd come back up that she'd been reduced to this stupid useless mess.

Tears burned in her eyes. This was all too much. It didn't matter that she'd promised Tsukishima-sensei, she couldn't keep going like this. She was just holding the others back.

"Y-you sh-should leave me behind," she stammered, her teeth chattering around the words. They were hiding on a rooftop close to the Blue Stream Gate that, during the day, opened into first district east Rukongai. Right now, in the early hours of the morning, it was closed tight.

"Shut up," Karin hissed. She was peering over the edge of the roof, her eyes intent on the massive figure sleeping beside the wall, the gate guardian, Kaiwan. Finally she huffed unhappily and shuffled back up the roof to join them. "It's way too exposed," she said, her face a pale patch in the moonlight as she spoke to Sado. "Once dawn comes, the guard's going to see us coming from yards away, and neither of us have fast enough shunpo to break a blockade."

"Use disguises," Sado replied. "That's what Ichigo did the first time."

Karin looked cautiously optimistic for a second, then shook her head. "Even the best disguise can't change the facts. We've no paperwork and no one's gonna let us pass without it." She glanced back the way they'd come. "Maybe we should double back to the west gate, or try Kira. I bet he could get us out."

Sado's hand shot out and closed around Karin's forearm. "No," he rumbled. "Your cousin said not to trust him."

"What, Kūkaku?" replied Karin, her eyebrows and voice going up slightly. "Yeah, 'cause she's totally trustworthy." She shook her head and grimaced, voice dropping back into a whisper as she conceded, "You might be right. Shin doesn't like him much either, something about connections to the Iba, which, yeah, I guess we don't want to risk them getting involved." Her mouth pulled sideways. "They'd be as likely to sell us on as help us out." She looked up at Sado again. "I'm thinking hiding in something's going to be our best bet. If Ganju wasn't already gone, we could hitch a ride with him. Know anyone else with wagons heading out of Seireitei?"

That made Yuzu think. She didn't know Seireitei well, there hadn't been much of a chance to explore while she was at the 4th, but she'd always had a good sense of direction and place.

"There's a big warehouse three streets over," she whispered. "It's a store for rice and root vegetables being sent out to the camps, so there might be wagons there we could hide in."

Karin stared at her like she was seeing Yuzu for the first time. It was an uncomfortable feeling, a horrible one. Never had Yuzu been so conscious of the differences between them. Karin was a trained shinigami, with reiatsu and a zanpakutō, whereas Yuzu couldn't even heal people properly, all she could do was stick bandages on them. She shrank back into the tenuous embrace of her coat and wished she was stronger.

Eventually, Karin asked, "How do you know that?" 

Not quite able to meet her gaze, Yuzu glanced towards the vast sweep of Seireitei's wall. "We passed it on the way here and I recognised the sign outside. It's the same people that Koniwa-san ordered carrots from for the 6th," she said. 

"Seriously?" Karin said after a moment, with such disbelief in her voice that Yuzu couldn't help snapping, "What, you don't believe me? I might not be a shinigami but I can remember a simple thing like that, you know."

"That's not-" Karin began loudly, before Sado cleared his throat, shutting both of them up.

When they both turned and glared at him, he shrugged and said, "We should go look."

That ended that argument. The next one began when they reached the warehouse.

The alley was narrow and smelt of rotting vegetables and manure, but at least it was warmer than the rooftops. Yuzu hung on to the sleeve of Sado's haori as the three of them peered out at the warehouse entrance. It was exactly as Yuzu remembered, with large double doors for the wagons to pass through and a smaller one cut into them for people. Being night-time, the place was locked up tight, though a glimmer of light showed at a window like maybe there was someone on watch. Yuzu hadn't a clue how they might get inside.

"Sado," Karin whispered eventually, "stay here with Yuzu. I'll go check the back." Without so much as a glance at Yuzu, she set off round the corner. Alone, with no back up.

More worried than scared, Yuzu grabbed Karin's shihakushō before she could get very far and hauled her back into the alley. "What are you going to do if you get caught?" she hissed. "Sado-kun should go with you."

Karin yanked the cloth from her hand with an annoyed huff. "And leave you here alone, I don't think so," she replied, eyes narrowing and lips thin. Her hand rested on the hilt of her zanpakutō like she might draw it at any moment and she looked so hard and sure, so not like the sister that she remembered that Yuzu couldn't help crying out, "You're not my bodyguard, stop trying to protect me!"

A creak of tile came from above and suddenly someone dropped from the rooftop. 

Karin and Sado both lunged for Yuzu, who squeaked as each tried to haul her off in a different direction. Her feet caught in her kimono and she stumbled over, landing on her knees directly in the path of the oncoming danger. 

Which leaned down and pulled her to her feet.

Expecting to look up into the face of an onmitsukidō guard, Yuzu could only sob with relief when it was Take that she found glaring at her. Though, going by the grim expression on Take's face, she might have been safer with the onmitsukidō. Take's grip tightened on her arm as she grabbed Karin as well and, with a jerk of her grey head, set off back up the alley. Behind them rose voices. It sounded like the people at the warehouse, disturbed from their sleep and wondering what the racket was. Then an alarm sounded. 

Take sped up, pushing Karin and Yuzu ahead of her, away from the wall and deeper into the maze of narrow streets. They'd got away only just in time.

Yuzu bit her lip, kept her head down and kept walking. This was what happened when she tried to do things that she wasn't clever at, like sneaking and fighting. She should leave all that to Karin. Or to nii-chan. Except, the onmitsukidō had been after Ichigo, the same as her. Had they caught him? Surely nii-chan would fight if they tried. He was strong enough, a captain. But that might mean he got hurt.

For a second Yuzu could hardly see for fear for her brother, then she remembered. She didn't have to worry. Even if nii-chan was hurt, Tsukishima-sensei would be there to look after him. Tsukishima-sensei would take of everything, so long as Yuzu did what she'd been told.

That allowed her to breath, and when Take shoved them into another alley, this one narrower and darker than the last, she didn't resist even a little. A few metres from the end, Take spun Yuzu to halt in front of her and snarled quietly, "What the hell was that? I could hear you yelling halfway up the damned road! If there was any onmitsukidō within half a mile, they heard you too. You want to die?"

Guilty tears pricked at Yuzu's eyes as Take turned her attention on Karin, her voice scathing as she ripped into her too. "Fifth seat and that's your idea of stealthy. Sagara-fukutaichō would bust your ass back down to the ranks. And as for you," her steely gaze rose to fix on Sado, "if this is all Shiba-taichō's trust means to you, I suggest you get yerself back to whatever whorehouse he found you in." 

Shame flooded Sado's face, and Yuzu just couldn't let that pass. Keeping her voice down, she said, "Take don't, please. It wasn't Sado-kun's fault. It was me and Karin, we were the ones fighting."

"It's true," Karin insisted. "I was in charge, not him. It was all my fault."

"No. It was me. This was my task to complete." Sado bowed deeply. "I apologise for my failure."

With an huff, Take released her grip on Yuzu and stepped back. "Finally, you've started thinking straight," she said and unslung a bag from her back. "I assume the plan is to get out of Seireitei asap." 

Karin and Sado exchanges glances, then Karin said, "Yeah, but we can't think how to get through the gate."

Take just looked at them for a long moment before shaking her head. "That's just where the problems start," she said. She hunkered down, untied the bag and started digging through it, dragging out two cloaks like the one she was wearing and tossing them to Karin and Sado. "Stick these on first. They'll cover your zanpakutō." Her gaze narrowed as it shifted onto Sado in his distinctive bodyguard's uniform. "And either reverse that haori or dump it. The mon sticks out like a sore thumb even in dim light." 

"Yuzu was suggesting the food wagons," Karin said as she tugged the travelling cloak over the top of her shihakushō. Sado had already stripped his coat off. Now he looked it over before turning it inside out and putting it back on again. The cloak covered it.

"It was a good idea," Take agreed, dragging what looked like a large blanket out of the bag. "Trouble is, that's exactly what onmitsukidō expect you to do. By morning, every route out of Seireitei'll be double watched and everything'll get searched, so we're gonna try something different." She stood up, shaking out the blanket. "We're gonna to bluff our way through."

*

"Yo! King!"

Ichigo groaned. Someone was smacking him in the face. Worse, someone with a really bony ass was sitting on his chest, smacking him in the face. 

"Come on, wakey wakey, rise and fuckin' shine, now ain't the time to be nappin'."

Smack. 

Smack. 

Ichigo's hand shot out, stopping next blow before it could land. He slit his eyes open and glared at the hollow whose forearm he had caught in his fist. "You've got until I count to three to explain, then I'm killing you."

Zangetsu cocked his head, frowning. "Don't ya mean 'or I'm killing you'?"

"One," Ichigo growled, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine! Sheesh! Try to do a guy a favour." Zangetsu yanked his arm out of Ichigo's grip and rolled to his feet. "If you're awake, ya might as well look for yerself."

Sounded about right. With the hollow's weight gone, Ichigo struggled up onto his elbows and peered around his inner world. Last time he'd been here, it had changed from a sideways cityscape to a version of Seireitei. This time, he could have been in the centre of Tokyo and he still wouldn't have known. The fog was so thick, he could barely make out Zangetsu standing above him.

"What the hell?" he asked, clambering to his feet.

Zangetsu gave him a disgusted look. "Ya don't know? It's your fucking soul." 

Which was true, but still, "It's all metaphors. How the hell am I supposed to know what fog means?"

Now the look turned withering. "What the last thing ya remember?"

Good question. Ichigo tried to think of a good answer, and came up blank. That was really freaking disturbing. In the past, he'd always remembered ending up in his inner world, but this time there was nothing, not even a glimmer of a clue as to how he got here.

There was something else wrong too. "Where's Ossan?"

Zangetsu scowled and jerked his chin up. "Out there somewhere. After you ate that reiryoku rice stuff, he freaked the fuck out. Was tryin' to track him down when this happened, and then you practically landed on my head."

Reiryoku rice. Did that sound familiar? Not that it mattered right now, with Ossan missing. 

With a determined, "Right, let's go," Ichigo reached for his swords, only to find both katana and tanto missing. 

"What'd you do with my damned zanpakutō?" he demanded, turning in a circle like they might have fallen out onto the ground somewhere, which, unless Zangetsu had stolen them, was as good an explanation as anything else Ichigo could think of. Apart from the very first time, and when Urahara had stabbed him, Ichigo had never been swordless in his inner world before. 

"You ain't got one. They took it, remember," Zangetsu said, drawing his own blade.

No, Ichigo didn't remember, and that was starting to be a real problem. What the hell had happened to take away his memory?

But there was still no time to think about it. The fog was getting thicker and with it came a rising sense of dread. There was definitely something out there. "So let me use your sword," Ichigo said, holding out his hand, palm up. 

Zangetsu stared at him, eyebrows rising. "Fuck off. Yer crap with it compared to me. Plus, ya don't even need it. Anything jumps out on ya, use that fancy Quincy shit." He wriggled his fingers demonstratively.

Ichigo ignored that. He was more interested in Zangetsu wanting to remain armed. "You're scared," he said.

The blade kissed his throat before quivering to a halt. Instinctively, Ichigo tipped his head back to avoid contact and put his hand on the hollow's forearm, not gripping it this time, just easing it away slightly so he could lower his chin. Zangetsu didn't fight it. He seemed shocked, if anything. His black and gold eyes were huge and fixed on the blade where it was resting on Ichigo's shoulder.

"If you are," Ichigo continued as calmly as he could manage, "it's because I am. Something shitty is going down out there, and we need to find Ossan before it all goes to hell and then work out how to fix it. Okay?"

*

Covered by the cloak and tied to Sado's back by the blanket, Yuzu kept her head down and did her best to think backpack-y thoughts. The plan might not hinge on her being able to pull it off, but she could still do her very best. Everyone else would be, and their jobs were so much more dangerous. They had to pretend to be something they weren't, and make people believe they were allowed to do things they shouldn't. All she had to do was hang on and stay as still as possible.

They were heading south, since Take said it was too dangerous to try the east gate again. Karin had argued that west would just send them straight back into the arms of the onmitsukidō, and no one even suggested north, not with how close it'd take them to both The Pits and the 12th. 

Sado slowed to a stop. For a second Yuzu almost panicked and then, from close by, Take asked quietly, "Ready?"

Against Yuzu's cheek, Sado's answering grunt felt quieter than Karin's murmured, 'yes'. Yuzu nodded, which was really the best she could do, bundled up like she was. A hand resting briefly atop her head was welcome reassurance that they'd not forgotten she was there.

"Then let's do this."

Sado suddenly sprung into motion; shunpo, Yuzu could tell from the way her heart seemed to jump in time with the steps; and then stopped abruptly only moments later, as Take began yelling, "Incoming medical emergency! Get that gate open right now! Orders from the 4th!" 

There was a flurry of activity, then a soft, ponderous voice answered, "I was not told of this."

"That's hardly my fault! The butterfly was sent. Now open that gate before I fetch Unohana-taichō to make you open it!"

Most people, when threatened with the Kenpachi, tended to act first and ask questions afterwards, but even Take admitted that this might be a risky strategy. Seireitei's giant gate guards were supposed to keep Seireitei secure, and if Higonyūdō refused to open the gate, or demanded paperwork, they'd be sitting ducks when anyone else arrived.

Yuzu's fingers curled into the meat of Sado's shoulders and she tried not to shiver as, for the longest time, there was no response. It was terrifying, waiting for the axe to fall, for the shout to come, for the alarm to sound. How did people do this, survive this, every day? Right now, she wanted to be home in her room, or in the kitchen preparing food for the people she loved. Or even back at the 4th, helping Yamada-fukutaichō after he'd had too much to drink. Anywhere but here, clinging to Sado's back expecting to be discovered and arrested at any second. She wasn't brave like her sister or nii-chan. 

Or Take, whose voice carried absolute authority as she called out again, "Healer's business, Higonyūdō-san. You know the drill!"

Finally, finally there was a kind of groaning creak, like a mountain starting to move, and they were off again. This time they didn't stop. Even when voices and alarms rose behind them, the steps of shunpo went on and on and on. Yuzu clung, trapped in a rocking world of darkness, as Seireitei fell further and further behind them. 

The journey went on for hours, longer than Yuzu had imagined it could, and, as sleep finally began to claim her exhausted body, she held tight to one thought. They might have left her brother behind, but she didn't have to worry. Nii-chan would be fine, Tsukishima-sensei would make sure of it.

*

Apparently his inner world was now only partly Seireitei. Some of it had turned back into skyscrapers, but everything was still the right way up. So that was progress, of a kind.

Ichigo lead the way through a maze of fog-wrapped buildings, Zangetsu following along in tense silence. They'd been wandering for hours, or what felt like it, and still hadn't found any sign of Ossan. Once or twice Ichigo swore he saw something, a shadow of movement from the corner of his eye, but when he looked, there was nothing there. Finally, even he had to admit that they were getting nowhere.

"This is pointless," he said, stopping by the edge of a glass and steel tower block. The dark shape of the next building over loomed out of the mist before them. Ichigo cocked his head and frowned. There was something about it that looked really familiar.

Beside him, Zangetsu plonked down cross-legged, all knees and angles, and rested his namesake across his lap. "Could've told you that," he said and waved a hand at the fog. "Obvious innit. This meta-whatsit's not gonna clear till you've got ya mind straightened out."

Put like that, it was pretty obvious. "Shit," Ichigo cursed under his breath, turning away to hide his embarrassment because Zangetsu might be right, but that didn't make fixing things any easier. Everywhere he looked there was nothing but swirling wreathes of white, that honestly just seemed to be getting thicker. There was no sign of Ossan, and Ichigo hadn't a clue how to get his memories back.

What he needed was advice, preferably from someone with a sharp analytical mind and a good sense of strategy. Unfortunately, all he had access to was an idiot. "So… ideas?" he asked, shooting a glare at the hollow just daring him to make something of it.

Zangetsu's smirk was evil. "Ya asking me?" he said, spreading his palm across his chest.

Ichigo just raised his eyebrows.

The smirk got wider. "I could punch ya in the face till ya remember."

It was tempting to punch the hollow in the mouth, but that wouldn't get them anywhere except a fight, and of all the things Ichigo wasn't sure of right now, the chance of a fight between him and Zangetsu fixing this wasn't one of them. Instead, he took a page out of Uryū's book. Sighing dramatically, he said, "Just as I thought. Useless."

"Oi!" Zangetsu protested, before subsiding with a, "S'not my fault. I only know what you know. That Quincy's the guy you want."

Because Ossan wasn't Ichigo, or at least not entirely. He was an echo of another who might have different knowledge. "Fine, but he's not around. Anything else?"

Zangetsu shook his head miserably. "I can't track him. My reiatsu sensing's for shit."

Ichigo's brain kind of ground to a halt at that because, dumb as it sounded, it hadn't occurred to him to even try using reiatsu to find Ossan. He didn't even know if he could sense reiatsu that way in his inner world. But there was a good way to find out.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his surroundings, opening to input other than his usual five senses. As he did, it immediately became obvious why he'd not automatically picked Ossan up. Even like this, the fog was still there, blanketing everything with a low buzz of reiryoku. But Ichigo was determined now, and Ossan's Quincy reiatsu signature had to be different from anything normally found in a shinigami's inner world even a mixed-blood one.

He focused down, hard, and slowly the reiryoku resolved into a cloud of red ribbons dancing around his head. Arms out, Ichigo turned in a slow circle studying them. They stroked across his shihakushō, each touch a spark of familiar power. This had to be the reiryoku making up the fog. Was it his and Zangetsu's or Ossan's?

A single white ribbon thwipped past Ichigo's face. He blinked and grabbed for it, and the second his fingers closed around it, he knew he'd found Ossan. The vibe off this ribbon was totally different from the red ones. It felt as clean and crisp as a glass of fresh water, and the power of it spoke directly to Ichigo's heart. 

"This way," he said, as the sense of it bowled off into the distance. Ichigo followed it, aware of Zangetsu on his heels. And this time, they travelled quickly, in a straight line, leaping the chasms between buildings like they weren't even there, not caring that the fog hid their feet. Shapes were enough. So long as there was a hint of somewhere to land, neither balked at taking the jump.

It didn't take long to get where they were going. Before long, Ichigo pulled up on the edge of a building and peered out into the white. The ribbon definitely headed towards something out there, presumably the next building over, but it was too far away to see even a trace. Desperate for some kind of a clue as to what it might be, he leaned far over the edge and squinted down into the fog swirling below his feet. 

"What ya waiting for king?" Zangetsu hollered, shooting past Ichigo and plummeting off the precipice with a howl of glee. 

Ichigo rolled his eyes and followed, landing with a bone jarring thump on the edge of what turned out to be a bridge. One that was lined on either side by banners.

"This is the Senzaikyū," Ichigo murmured, as they sprinted across it. He recognised it from when he'd crossed the real world version earlier, after Yoruichi had arrested him. 

Distracted by the memory, Ichigo almost ran off the side of the bridge. Zangetsu immediately collapsed, laughing at him. Did other shinigami have this sort of problem with their zanpakutō spirits, Ichigo wondered, or was it just him who was lumbered with an asshole. 

"It's not that fucking funny," he snapped eventually when it looked like the hollow was never going to quit. "I finally remembered some stuff." Like the Quincy reiryoku-laced rice and facing down Yoruichi, amongst others. 

Ichigo shuddered at the memory of Kyōraku's expression as Ichigo had been led away. Even if he managed to win the challenge, he was going to have to watch his back. Kyōraku definitely wasn't going to let this go.

"So how come it's still as foggy as shit," Zangetsu asked. He'd stopped rolling around now and was crouched above Ichigo on the door ledge, knobbly knees up round his ears.

Ichigo hesitated for a second before conceding, "Because I've still not remembered everything."

"Better get on that, king," Zangetsu carolled and pivoted forward. Just as he reached tipping point, he leapt, all four limbs outstretched. Ichigo dodged. Zangetsu twisted in midair, touched down only long enough to shoulder-charge Ichigo on the way past, and bounced up the steps into the tower. Ichigo managed to grab a flag pole at the last moment, swung himself right around it once, and used the extra impetus to send him into the back of the hollow as it went through the door; both feet, right between the shoulder-blades. Zangetsu went down like he'd been pole-axed. 

"Score!" Ichigo crowed, glorying in his moment of triumph, which might have gone on longer if he hadn't suddenly found himself staring at someone who definitely should not have been there. 

Byakuya was standing at the base of the stairs that wound up to the second floor. He was turned slightly away from the door, staring up the stairs at another man who stood several steps above him. This man was tall and lanky with a scar down the left side of his face. A name hovered on the tip of Ichigo's tongue, there but not quite. Who was this guy? Ichigo knew that he knew him, but from where, and how?

Whoever he was, he and Byakuya seemed to having a face off and the Quincy ribbon said that Ossan was somewhere up those stairs, on the other side of both of them. Even so, for the longest moment Ichigo could do nothing except drink in the sight of his lover. From the ramrod straight stance to the arrogant tilt of his chin, Byakuya seemed his usual powerful self, a huge step-up from the last time Ichigo had seen him, tear-stained and broken on that futon at Karakura hospital. Sure he was wearing a rag of a yukata, looked pale and skinny enough to pass for a ghost, and was also somewhere it was impossible for him to be, but all those things faded into insignificance in the face of actually seeing him. 

Heart bursting with joy, Ichigo hurried forwards, happiness spilling out along with his words, "Byakuya! What the hell? Is Renji with you? Did Rukia find you both?"

At the sound of Ichigo's voice, Byakuya swivelled towards him, the effect nothing like as impressive without the flare of a captain's haori to emphasise it. 

"Ichigo?" he said, frowning like he didn't where he was or how he'd got there, which made two of them. How did one person get into another's soul anyhow? "I thought I heard you calling for help." 

"Me? No, at least I don't think-"

Ichigo's words froze on his lips as Byakuya's gaze suddenly snapped to something behind Ichigo's right shoulder, and his expression changed. Confusion fled, replaced by a ravenous desperate hunger, and he lunged, fingers clawing as they reached out to grasp, to claim. Ichigo grabbed for him, only to be barged out of the way by Zangetsu, who flashed past Ichigo's shoulder, blade levelled and thrusting in a move designed to run Byakuya through and through.

*

Byakuya jerked awake just in time to throw himself backwards off the futon away from Renji. Panting, he pressed himself to the door and scrubbed his arm across gritty burning eyes. That had been close, far too close. Thankfully, Renji slept on, apparently oblivious of Byakuya's near attack on him.

Though had his target been Renji? 

Byakuya frowned. Thinking back, he'd been on the cusp of sleep when he'd heard someone calling for help and then he'd… dreamed? And the dream had been about Ichigo, surely. Yes. Ichigo at the Senzaikyū with a man Byakuya remembered seeing around the 4th on occasion. One of the medics, perhaps? So maybe it hadn't been an attack, simply a sleep-walking. 

Breathing a little easier and heart rate returning to normal, Byakuya permitted himself a moment to relax before grabbing his clothes and slipping from the room. Dream or not, he couldn't risk it happening again. He'd still woken on the verge on touching Renji and that couldn't be allowed.

It was actually later than he'd thought. The sun was already up, and from down the stairs came the scent of fresh cigarette smoke and the sound of someone whistling tunelessly. Most likely Mendori, given that evidence. Unlike Byakuya and Renji, who were stuck waiting for the club to close at about four, Mendori invariably left with Akio-chan just before midnight, and was often already at the club by the time Byakuya returned from his bath. It was nowhere near that time now though. For some reason, Mendori was very early this morning.

Sure enough, when Byakuya opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, Mendori was leaning against the bar reading a newspaper, a cigarette clamped between his fingers. When Byakuya came in, he glanced up and sneered, "You look like shit, princess. Boyfriend give ya a rough night?"

Ignoring the unwelcome commentary about his private life, Byakuya averted his gaze and made to pass Mendori on his way to the toilets. He was stopped by a hand on the arm and, when he looked up, Mendori actually looked genuinely concerned. "Serious now, are you okay. Ya looked like you ain't slept in weeks."

That was actually fairly accurate. The little sleep Byakuya had managed to claim had been spotty and counted in minutes rather than hours, but what choice did he have when sleeping around Renji carried such a terrible risk. 

"Look," Mendori was saying, his hand still gripping Byakuya's sleeve. "I know it ain't none of my business, but if ya want something to help, just say the word."

That seemed to demand some kind of an answer. Keeping his eyes on the floor, Byakuya said, "Thank you, but I… do not need anything to help me sleep." If anything it was the opposite. He desperately needed to stay awake.

"That ain't the only option. This place takes long hours, everyone knows that, and if ya need an extra little pick me up in the mornings, there ain't no harm in that either. Here." Jamming his cigarette in his mouth, Mendori fished in his pocket and came up with a pot similar to the one Arisawa-sensei had given Renji for his back. He popped the lid and, releasing his grip on Byakuya's arm, turned Byakuya's palm face up and shook out a single pill. "Get that down ya," he said, "then maybe you'll look a bit less like a fucking zombie." He smirked. "Never know, might even end up pretty enough ta hang on to that boyfriend of yours."

Byakuya doubted that looks would make that much difference to his ability to keep Renji by his side, but not attacking him might. "Will this help to keep me awake?" he asked, peering at the small pill doubtfully. It was pink and unassuming.

"Keep ya awake and make ya feel good," Mendori replied, slipping the pot back into his pocket and returning to his newspaper. "Let me know if ya want anymore."

At a price, Byakuya was sure, but what price Renji's safety? If this worked, perhaps it would be worth using the money he spent at the sentō each day, and he could make the food Renji bought stretch far further than it was currently. 

As he crossed the club room on his way to the toilets, Byakuya knocked the tablet back and swallowed it dry.

*

Zangetsu landed cursing; Ichigo empty handed. Somehow Byakuya had vanished midair, eluding both of them. Ichigo spun on his heels, searching the entranceway, because what the hell had that been, that expression and sudden attack? It was a question that demanded answers, but for now there was no sign of Byakuya. It was like he'd never been there at all.

"I fucking hate that bastard," Zangetsu grumbled, sword propped over his shoulder as he dusted off his shihakushō. 

Ichigo glared over at him. "Tough. I love him." Though if he was being honest with himself, there were times when Ichigo kind of hated Byakuya too. Not right now though. That had just been strange. And strange didn't happen for no reason. Ichigo turned his attention to the other anomaly in the room; the familiar stranger on the stairs. "And who the hell are you anyway?"

"That's Tsukishima-sensei," Zangetsu told him with a look that said he thought Ichigo was dumb for not knowing such a simple fact.

It took Ichigo a moment to add the name and face to anything useful. "Yuzu's teacher, from the 4th," he managed eventually. Which answered that question, and raised oh about a thousand more. Like what the hell a medic from the 4th was doing in Ichigo's inner world. Unless, "Am I dying?"

Tsukishima shook his head. "You are not dying, Shiba-sama, however you are unwell. Part of your soul has become infected with a kind of virus. It's eating away at your mind." Which would account for the lack of memory, Ichigo guessed as Tsukishima continued, "I was sent to find the core of the problem and destroy it."

Sent. That suggested there was some outside power at work. 

_Ichigo! Ichigo, do not listen to him. He is lying._ Ossan's voice resounded through Ichigo's head and in the shadows above Tsukishima, something stirred. 

Frowning, Ichigo said silently, _Eh? You mean there isn't a virus? Then how come I can't remember what happened before I came in here and what's with the fog?_

_**He** is the virus. **He** is the cause of you losing your memories. **He** is the one invading your mind._

Ichigo's gaze shot to Tsukishima-sensei and narrowed dangerously. "Say I don't believe you," he said, as much for Ossan's benefit as Tsukishima's. It was like one of those horror story things, which of the monsters was the real one and which your friend.

Twin answers, one from within, the other from without, came to Ichigo in perfect synchronicity. " _Then you will die._ "

*

Renji ended up oversleeping. Then, when he galloped down the stairs to make his apologies and grab a quick wash before he left, he found the strangest of strange sights; Byakuya sitting at the bar, chatting with Mendori.

Chatting.

For a second, Renji hesitated in the doorway, tempted to check whether or not he was wearing any clothes because the only reasonable answer was that this had to be a dream. Byakuya didn't do chat. He'd never done chat. Even when Ichigo had been around, he'd done reluctant conversation and only then until he could escape. But that, going on over there at the bar, was definitely chat. Informal, relaxed, friendly.

"Morning?" Renji ventured finally, hating that it came out as a question, but not able to make his tone less unsure. 

Byakuya turned towards him and, was that a smile on his face? This morning was just getting more and more surreal. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Byakuya said. "I was just telling Mendori-san that you're the type who'll quite happily sleep in for hours if no one wakes you."

That was true, but also kind of private. Renji frowned at Mendori, who just shrugged, so Renji aimed his question at Byakuya. "You okay?" 

"Perfectly," Byakuya replied. "Are you ready to go?"

Go? It took a second to wrap his head around that. What with all the insanity, Renji had kind of forgotten. "Right, yeah. Totally ready."

"Good," Byakuya nodded and the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "Then you shouldn't delay. The sooner you leave, the more time you'll have to train."

"Right, yeah." Again Renji's gaze strayed to Mendori, though this time a question did too, since it paid to be careful when you were dealing with the yakuza. "So, it's okay with you if we split duties like this?"

Mendori shrugged again and stood up, closing his newspaper. "Told ya before, I don't care how ya handle it, so long as one of you's here all the time. Princess here says ya do kendo or some such shit. I say knock yerself out. Can't have too many skills in a job like this."

And that seemed to be that. Renji looked from Mendori to Byakuya before shaking his head. Maybe when he got back, the world would be a saner place.

The trip out to Karakura was uneventful and not that expensive. Better yet, when he stopped to grab breakfast at the combi near Karakura station, he realised the prices were less than those in central Tokyo. Simply picking their food up here everyday would save them almost as much as the cost of Renji's train ticket.

Bags laden, he hurried to the hospital, only then realising that he'd forgotten to text Arisawa-sensei and that the safe-room would be locked up tight. Cursing under his breath, Renji stopped by the elevators to punch a quick message into his phone, hitting the send button just as he stepped into the car. Arisawa wouldn't answer immediately Renji knew, so he made his way down to the little storage room anyway, falling easily back into the routine of keeping his head down and not making eye contact as he traversed familiar corridors.

Someone had been in there before him. Renji had no way of knowing who but, when he and Byakuya had left, the boxes had definitely been stacked across the safe-room entrance. Now they were pulled away from the wall slightly, like someone had been looking for something. It was probably nothing, but combined with Byakuya's odd behaviour earlier and the discovery that the Iba were somehow tied to some of the living world's yakuza, it was enough to make Renji edgy.

When his phone suddenly rang, he jumped like someone had tried to stab him and then almost dropped the stupid thing before he could answer it.

"Renji-kun?" Arisawa said after Renji snapped a greeting. "Is everything all right?"

"I dunno," Renji replied. "Depends if you've been down here fiddling with the boxes."

"Oh, you're at the hospital! Excellent, I was hoping you might be able to come some time. Wait right where you are. I'll be with you in about twenty minutes."

That was better than the hour Renji had feared, plus the old man seemed to know about the boxes. Reassured, Renji cleared the rest of the boxes then settled himself down on the treatment trolley, pulled a couple of bentō out of the shopping bag and began to fuel up for a day's training.

He was chasing the last of the rice from the corners of the second container when Arisawa arrived, panting slightly, outside the door. Renji hopped off the trolley with a grin. The old man was looking great, much better than he had last time Renji saw him. Then he'd obviously been exhausted from running around after them all the time, not to mention the emotional cost of losing his home and all his stuff. Now he seemed back to his old self, how he'd been that day when, despite knowing the dangers, he'd handed a bowl of hot tea to a badly injured shinigami hiding under a temple bush.

"Ojiisan," Renji greeted him.

Arisawa smiled broadly. "You look well. Living in Shinjuku suits you, I think."

"Better than here," Renji replied without thinking, only afterwards realising how rude that sounded. "Not that here wasn't great-"

A single held up hand and a head shake silenced him. "I know exactly what you mean, there's no need to explain. Isshin hated this place too when he had to hide here for any length of time. Now let's get inside." He turned to face the wall and frowned. "Was this how you found them?"

"No, only a couple were moved," Renji replied. "I shifted the rest while I was waiting for you."

"Ah, that explains it." Arisawa studied the wall for a second, then pressed his hand against a spot that, to Renji always looked identical to all the others. There was a click and a clunk and then one of the panels rose slowly to reveal the safe-room. 

"Great, thanks," Renji began, starting forwards, only for Arisawa to silence him again. This time it was by closing the safe-room door. "Erm…" Renji said.

Arisawa glanced at him with a twinkle in his eye. "This is what I wanted to show you. Come here, Renji-kun, and give me your hand. Oh, take the gigai off first, if you please."

First? Renji hadn't been planning on losing it before he was safely inside, but Arisawa seemed to know what he was doing. Tugging the glove out of his back pocket, Renji jolted himself clear of his gigai and, after laying it on the floor out of the way, came to stand beside Arisawa.

"Put your hand there," the old man said, pointing to a particular spot on the wall. Renji did as he was told. A cold hot tingle ran across his palm and then the safe-room door began to open. "Oh fu-flipping heck," Renji gasped. "You fixed it so we can get in without you!"

"And out again." Arisawa beamed up at him. "It seemed a worthwhile effort, since you mentioned that you'd like to continue training here. And safer than leaving it on the latch as I did for Sado-kun." The old man's smile faded by a couple of watts. "Unfortunately, it will only work for you at this time. If Byakuya wishes to use the room, you'll have to come with him."

"That's fine, that's…" Renji ran out of words. The freedom this represented was incredible. Being able to get in and out without having to rely on Arisawa… Damn it, if they wanted, they could move back here and-

The memory of Byakuya sitting at the bar talking to Mendori skated across Renji's mind, and along with it, Byakuya's comment from last night about how being away from Renji helped him retain control. If he dragged Byakuya back out here, isolated him and shut him back inside these rooms, how long would it be before he lost control completely and did something even worse than he had before. Not to mention, there was the whole Iba deal that they really needed to keep a watching brief on. 

No, tempting as it was, Renji would have to content himself with commuting for now. At least he wouldn't have to rely on Arisawa being here everyday to let him in. Standing up, he bowed deeply to the old man. "Thank you very much, Arisawa-sensei. Seriously. This is going to make a huge difference to my ability to train."

Arisawa nodded at him approvingly, his eyes glistening. "Don't mention it, Renji-kun. Just get yourself in there and impress this old man with your ability to 'kick some ass'."

Renji's laugh was genuine and like a breath of fresh air through his soul.

*

There was no easy answer. Unlike a horror movie, Ichigo couldn't stab one of the monsters to see which one of them bled. Or fast forward to the end to see who was the bad guy. He stood there, racking his brains, trying to work out how to make this come out the way it should.

 _Who is he?_ he asked Ossan finally, in the hopes that would help at least some.

_He came to check up on you when you got to the Senzaikyū. He is a doctor, he's not lying about that._

That reminded Ichigo of something. _Zangetsu said you freaked when I ate the rice. What happened?_

Nothing but silence filtered back to him for the longest time. Tsukishima was still staring at him, and he could feel Zangetsu stirring restlessly behind him. The hollow was going to snap any moment and, since he seemed to know Tsukishima, it was even odds whose side he'd take.

But eventually Ossan replied, _The reiryoku in the rice bolstered my powers to a dangerous extent. Had I stayed close to Zangetsu, we could have damaged each other badly, so I insisted on taking my leave._

By that, Ichigo guessed they'd fought. _He was trying to find you afterwards._

Another silence then, _That was both foolish and kind of him._

_Are you okay now?_ Because maybe knowing that would help work this all out.

No answer. Ichigo waited, then waited some more. Ossan? he said again finally. Still nothing. Since Tsukishima hadn't moved, Ichigo had to guess that Ossan wasn't answering because he didn't want to, not because he couldn't. Which probably meant he wasn't okay at all and just didn't want to lie to Ichigo. 

But was that 'not okay' because of something Tsukishima had done, or because of something that Tsukishima was here to help deal with. 

Help. Byakuya had said something about someone calling for help. _Ossan, did you ask Byakuya for help?_

This time there was only a slight delay before Ossan said, _You were dying. I searched for aid anywhere it might be found, and he does have a claim on your soul._

Through the swearing allegiance thing. Damn, that had been so long ago at such a messed up point that Ichigo had almost forgotten.

 _I have never forgotten,_ Ossan intoned. _Since I was the one you handed over, this burden rests on my shoulders exclusively._

And not the real Zangetsu, who was Ossan's prisoner at the time. So the real question became, would Ossan be able to call for Byakuya if something had corrupted him to the extent that he was trying to destroy Ichigo from the inside out?

Perhaps not, but it wasn't completely unthinkable. 

So maybe the question then became, why would Byakuya go against Tsukishima if that would put Ichigo's soul in peril?

They'd fought, many times and bitterly. Ichigo knew he'd said things to Byakuya that were unforgivable, and that Byakuya had done and said things in turn that had scored themselves so deep into Ichigo's consciousness that they would never be forgotten. And yet, when Byakuya had left, he had given everything he loved to Ichigo, and when Byakuya had reached out for him back in Karakura, Ichigo had gone to him without a moment's hesitation. Because Ichigo knew, with a bone deep certainty, that if his life was on the line, Byakuya would not hesitate for one second before standing between him and whatever threatened it.

Though there was still that odd expression and lunge. Had Byakuya been attacking Zangetsu, or had he seen something in Zangetsu which had made him attack.

Still frowning, Ichigo pivoted slowly on his heel, and couldn't even try to act surprised when he found Zangetsu's blade an inch from his neck.

"Took ya long enough, king," the hollow smirked as, inside Ichigo's head, Ossan said, _Ichigo, he's been infected too. You can't trust him._

 _Yeah, I kind of got that,_ Ichigo sighed. _Any other belated observations you want to make?_

_Watch your back. Now!_

The yell damn near deafened him. Ichigo ducked anyway, hitting the ground and rolling, coming up away from both Zangetsu and Tsukishima, who ended up hitting each other in their attempts to stab Ichigo. 

Tsukishima's wound looked superficial, a long shallow scratch from collar bone to windpipe that dribbled blood down his neck. Zangetsu had been less lucky. Tsukishima's sword had got him through the belly. He hunched over it, fingers dripping scarlet where he'd grabbed the blade and, as Ichigo stared, he looked up. "Fuck," he said, black and gold eyes gleaming with a scary amount of inner clarity. "Fucking bastard's a lying piece of shit. King, the Quincy's telling the truth!"

That was the answer Ichigo was looking for. He spun into a crouch, both hands outstretched in front of him. "Hadō thirty three, shakkahō." Reiatsu the same colour as Zangetsu's blood exploded from his palms to scream across the entranceway straight towards Tsukishima. He leapt high and backwards, a complete somersault in the air that saw the blast pass harmlessly under him.

"Damn!" Ichigo swore, and started charging again. Byakurai this time. It had wider coverage which made it a hell of a lot harder to duck. 

This time when the kidō screamed out, Tsukishima met it with one of his own. "Enkōsen!" Ichigo's kidō glanced off it, and sprayed skyward, taking out a chunk of the ceiling and sending stone bouncing down on everyone's heads.

"Ossan!" Ichigo yelled as he dodged, because the Quincy spirit was up there somewhere and Ichigo didn't want to accidentally take him out as well as Tsukishima.

 _I am well, Ichigo,_ the old man replied, and then proved it by lunging out of the shadows behind Tsukishima. This time the blade caught the invader in the back. If it had been a proper sword, Ichigo would have been looking at the pointy end poking out of Tsukishima's chest. As it was, he only had the pleasure of watching Tsukishima's face as the tanto sank home to the hilt.

Shock crossed the lanky man's face, followed by hatred and utter loathing as he sank to his knees. "Shiba," he spat, blood colouring his teeth and lips red. "Kill me if you can, but you'll not get rid of me that easily." He lifted his sword in both hands, point downward, and with what looked like the last of his strength, drove the blade deep into the stone.

Memories flooded back into Ichigo's mind. Tsukishima coming into the cell, the healing, the stabbing, the encroaching feeling of friendship and respect and love, the way his mind had been consumed, taken over until everything and everyone was Tsukishima, Tsukishima, Tsukishi-

 _Ichigo!_ Ossan's bellow was almost drowned out by Zangetsu's scream of, "King!" Ichigo dragged himself back from the brink by main strength and willpower, and found himself on his hands and knees in the entrance of the Senzaikyū. The ceiling was whole, the floor unstained, and Tsukishima was gone.

"Shit," he gasped, clinging to the floor as the feeling of vertigo slowly began to subside. "That was way too close."

"Yer think?" Zangetsu said, flopping down beside him. The front of his white shihakushō was ripped and there was blood staining the area but the wound was gone. Hollow healing was a total cheat, Ichigo thought a bit blearily.

 _It could have been worse,_ Ossan agreed.

Ichigo sat back on his heels and looked up at the old man. He wasn't looking so hot. Kind of like someone had tried to melt him and given up halfway through. His skin was sagging and his cloak kind of dripped that black goo again. Was that the Tsukishima effect or the reiryoku in the rice, Ichigo wondered. He didn't ask. It wasn't like it actually mattered. "So we got rid of him, what's next?"

Zangetsu and Ossan exchanged significant looks. "What?" Ichigo asked.

"It ain't gonna be that easy," Zangetsu replied. He hopped to his feet, wandered over to the door and peered out. "The fog's still there."

"But my memories came back," Ichigo protested. 

In here, Ossan replied. _Out there, your mind is still going to be clouded._

"Maybe. We ain't gonna know till you leave."

Ichigo looked between his two zanpakutō spirits. "You're saying that I could get back into the real world and still think Tsukishima's my BFF," he said.

_That is a possibility._

"Or you might get out there and realise he's a lying fuck that should be stabbed in the face till he dies," Zangetsu pointed out. "No need ta be defeatist."

 _Whichever happens, we will both be here for you. And it will be far harder for him to deceive you with both of us now knowing the truth._

"Oi, that was not my fault!" Zangetsu protested. "It seemed logical at the time. The guy's a shinigami for fuck's sake, not some Quincy freak."

_Yes, because shinigami are always so well disposed towards hollows._

"Guys!" Ichigo put in before they could start fighting again. "We're all on the same side here."

Silence, then Ossan said, _You're right. I apologise,_ and dipped his head politely in Zangetsu's direction.

Zangetsu folded his arms and glared, but finally nodded back. "I guess."

"Good. So, like I said before, what's next?"


	13. Push Past the Plastic

If Ichigo could've got access to a pen, he'd have written himself a note on the back his hand: Tsukishima-sensei is not your friend.

Coming back to the real world had been strange. He remembered everything that'd happened in his inner world; the fight, the fog, the memory loss, all of it; but at the same time he _knew_ that him and Tsukishima went back years and had been as close as brothers for most of them. The guy had just always been there, every time Ichigo had needed a shoulder to cry on or a pep talk or -

_Oi, king!_

_Be careful, Ichigo. Your thoughts are starting to drift._

Ichigo groaned and rolled over on the futon. There'd been no sign of Tsukishima when he came round, though the few spatters of blood on the floor said the injury Ossan had given him in Ichigo's inner world had carried over. The guy probably went to get it healed. He might be a doctor, but it still had to be a bitch healing a stab wound in the middle of your own back.

_Try again, and this time focus on the people who are not Tsukishima._

Ichigo had been left with a god-awful pounding in his head that he'd prefer to sleep off, given the chance. Unfortunately Ossan and Zangetsu had other ideas.

_Quitter!_

"I am no quitter, jackass!" Ichigo growled, though honestly the hollow kind of had a point. Maybe Ichigo should just give up. After all, what difference did it make if he was friends with the guy or-

A surge of hunger swept over him like a tidal wave. Ichigo curled around it as his hands immediately started itching like crazy, just like they did when the windflower silk gloves stopped him from using his Quincy abilities. His hands might be bare right now, but the collar did pretty much the exact same thing, hence the itching. 

"All right! I get it!" he yelled, rolling upright. The hunger subsided, though the itching kept going for a while. Ichigo sat on his hands and did his best to ignore them while doing as Ossan had suggested and going back over his memories.

The ones from the living world were easiest because, even with the extra magical boost, Tsukishima didn't quite fit there. Especially middle school, since Tsukishima's abilities only seemed able to slide him in in his current adult form. Of course, they were also twisty enough to turn the guy into a counsellor, beloved teacher, and/or uncle, whichever fit the picture best, so Ichigo focused on the memories that only happened around kids.

The one that Tsukishima had hijacked that was really pissing him off was his first meeting with Chad. It was such an important part of who he was that having that memory screwed with went beyond the pale. So, he started with the alley, and the bullies. 

His memory tried to insert Tsukishima right away, but he stuck to his guns, using the visualisation techniques Byakuya had drummed into him when he'd first been learning kidō. Make the shape in your mind, and force everything to fit into that. No distractions. Pretty soon Ichigo was alone in the alley, surrounded by upperclassmen intent on bodily harm. 

Bastards hadn't liked his hair. It never mattered how many times Ichigo told them it was natural, that it came from his mom, they always took it as an insult. That he was a delinquent, making them and the school look bad. As if having orange hair was somehow worse than beating on kids younger than you with baseball bats. Fuckers.

He'd been doing okay until that one had got in a lucky hit. A couple of inches lower and it would've stove his nose through his skull. As it was, he ducked just far enough that it glanced off his forehead, but it'd been enough to drop him, and down on the ground, it'd been a free for all. Feet, sticks, rocks, they hadn't cared. If Tsukishima hadn't-

_Ichigo…_

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

If **Chad** hadn't happened along right when he did, that day might have had a very different ending.

But he had shown up, and his sheer presence had been enough to turn those guys' heads. They couldn't stand the idea of someone just standing there defying them. The bats and rocks had been turned on Tsuki- Chad, but of course he'd just let them. Hadn't turned a hair when they started whaling on him, and provided just enough distraction for Ichigo to take advantage. The upperclassmen had been the ones to go down then. And Ichigo hadn't even had to resort to weapons. His fists and feet had been good enough.

And afterwards…?

The image firmed up in Ichigo's mind. Chad's patient curious gaze as Ichigo lay on the ground at his feet, hurting all over but feeling so damn pumped for having beaten the bastards. Chad's presence, as rock solid as a mountain, as they left the alley, Ichigo only just keeping to his feet but still wanting to get to know this new person in his life, this new friend. Sado Yasutora. Chad. His friend.

Feeling like a wrung out rag, Ichigo flopped back on the futon, arms above his head. He was sweating and exhausted, but grinning in triumph. Now, when he looked back at his and Chad's first meeting, even though his mind tried to slip Tsukishima in, it couldn't. There was no space there for him. Ichigo had reclaimed his first precious memory. 

_Wasn't that hard_ Zangetsu grumbled.

 _Do not listen to him, Ichigo,_ Ossan put in. _He is simply jealous that you succeeded where he could not._

 _Oi!_

Ichigo's grin turned into a laugh, that might have had just a touch of an hysterical edge. He was locked up in jail listening to the two halves of his soul squabble. Life didn't get much more surreal than this. 

He sighed and stretched until his spine popped. In a few minutes, he'd move on to the next memory. Mom, maybe, and the funeral. See if he couldn't flush Tsukishima out of his family home completely. It had to be done. Tsukishima wanted to know about Yuzu, which meant that, sooner or later, he'd be back. If Ichigo was going to survive his next visit, he needed to prepare.

*

By the time they finally stopped, Yuzu was shivering so hard her bones ached. She'd been moved from Sado's back to Take's about three hours into the journey when Sado's energy started to flag. The trouble was, although Take might be stronger, she was nowhere near as warm as Sado, nor was she such a good windbreak, so for the past hour or so, Yuzu had been feeling the full brunt of the Rukongai winter.

"Sorry we had to keep going for so long," Take said as she added her cloak to the one already around Yuzu's shoulders. "I didn't wanna risk them catching up when we stopped for the day."

"I-It's okay," Yuzu stammered, not able to say much more through the shakes racking her body. The worst part was how not bothered the others seemed by the cold. It was their reiryoku levels, she knew, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. She was so useless like this. How could she be part of a family with so much power and have none herself. It just wasn't fair.

'Life isn't fair'. That's what Unohana-taichō said when Yuzu had first discovered that she would never be able to heal the kinds of injuries all the other medics managed with ease. 'Life is a perpetual fight to get stronger. Only those who give up, truly fail.'

So Yuzu forced herself to keep going. She'd learnt the kinds of techniques a human healer would use; dressings and stitching and poultices and splints; and had applied that knowledge to the very best of her abilities. Her skills had earned her Tsukishima-sensei's praise and then his friendship, and after that, not having the reiatsu to be a proper healer hadn't seemed like such a big thing. Between her work in the clinics and in records, she'd been happy, fulfilled. It was only she went to the 6th that it all fell apart again. 

The 6th's head medic, Takata-sensei, had no real use for a healer who couldn't even manage as much as her most menial helpers. She'd tolerated Yuzu because of Ichigo, though of course nii-chan had had no idea that that was what was going on. He couldn't be allowed to either. If Yuzu had told, he'd have shouted at Takata-sensei and demanded that she take Yuzu seriously. Then he'd have gone back to his duties leaving Yuzu to deal with the fallout, and it was bad enough already with all the patronising looks and snide comments that people made when they thought she wasn't paying attention.

Even so, she still hadn't been able to let herself give up, tempting though it had been once she had a noblewoman's status. Instead she'd plastered a smile on her face and looked elsewhere for something only she could do, reasoning that there had to be a niche somewhere, however small and insignificant. Finding an outlet in the kitchens, first at home and then at the 6th had been a wonder.

But that was gone now. Every scrap of self-respect that she'd struggled to piece together had vanished under the brutal onslaught of an impersonal winter. It didn't care whose sister she was, or how well she cooked. If she didn't have the reiatsu to defend herself, it would attack without remorse, prying into all her places and wrenching them wide with freezing fingers until the very heart of her felt like a block of ice.

"Here, drink this."

A steaming cup appeared in the small space in the cloak that Yuzu had left to see out of. "T-tea?" she asked, untangling a trembling hand and reaching for it.

"Only hot water, I'm afraid. Your sister and Sado-san have gone to have a hunt around for something a bit more substantial." Because they had enough reiatsu to be out in this weather. They were useful.

"Take…?" Yuzu began, before stopping because she had no idea what she actually wanted to say. 

But Take must have heard something in her voice. She came and sat beside Yuzu, put an arm around her and pulled her in tight. "You want to go back, just say the word," she whispered, the heat of her breath like fire across Yuzu's frozen skin. 

Yuzu shivered and shook her head. "No. Tsukishima-sensei told us to be ready for what would happen, and this must have been it. For some reason he needed us to be outside of Seireitei."

Take hummed agreement before saying, "Wish he'd told us why and for how long. I got no idea what sort of plans to make."

"Has Karin said anything?" Yuzu asked. She sniffed at the steam coming off the cup and wrinkled her nose. It smelt metallic, like the water had come from an old pipe.

"Not yet. Not really been time," Take replied.

Footsteps sounded outside the door and a moment later, it creaked open, letting in a blast of even colder air and a dusting of snow. As the lantern at Yuzu's feet guttered, two shadows slipped inside; Karin, with Sado the much larger shape behind. They fastened the door closed again and then picked their way past tools and rolls of straw to where Yuzu and Take were sitting.

"Anything?" Take asked.

Karin pushed back the hood on her cloak. Her cheeks were pink but she wasn't shivering. "Not much. Like you thought, the pickings were pretty slim."

As she spoke, Sado stepped forward and placed several items on the ground. A jug of sake with its seal still intact, and two lumpy looking sacks. "There's a horse," he said, as if that explained anything.

Still shivering, Yuzu leaned over and tugged at the top of one of the sacks. Carrots. 

It was the last straw. The tears that had been threatening for hours finally escaped. Floods of them, in choking sobs that she couldn't have contained even if she'd tried. Take tried asking what was wrong and all Yuzu could do was stare at her and bawl because how could she explain? It was so dumb. After all she'd done to get carrots for the 6th, scouring the warehouses and battling Fugawa Tatsuya, only to find a whole sack of them out here, and that was enough to reduce her to tears. See? Dumb.

Karin settled down on her other side with a heavy sigh. "You should sleep," she said, reaching under Yuzu's cloak and carefully lifting the cup from her shaking fingers. "You're overtired if you're crying like this."

She was probably right, but it was too cold to sleep. Yuzu sniffed wetly and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "C-cold," she said. 

"I know." Pulling her own cloak open, Karin tugged on Yuzu's arm and encouraged her in close. "I'll try and warm you up a bit. Let me know if hurts."

"H-hurts?" Yuzu asked, just as her sister's reiatsu began to slowly pulse and rise. It was like cuddling up to a heating pad. Yuzu snuggled closer letting the heat spread through her and feeling muscles that had tied themselves into long strings of knots start to unwind. It was wonderful. Her tears faded and she felt like purring with sheer luxuriating happiness. 

Then a tingling feeling started in the tips of her fingers where they rested against Karin's wrist. Yuzu screwed her hand into a fist, unwilling to admit that anything was wrong, and continued to cuddle. The tingling spread, turning into a slight burning feeling, like she'd used too much heating rub and not washed her hands. Still Yuzu stayed where she was. The rest of the barn was cold, and she didn't want to be cold any more.

"Yuzu…?"

"Just a moment more."

Karin sighed and didn't insist, though her reiatsu dropped away to almost nothing. Taking the hint, Yuzu sat up, and was ambushed as she did so by a huge yawn. She stretched, feeling the bite of the winter's chill again, but able to ignore it for now. Her skin still tingled and burned, even under her cloak. Smiling at her sister, who was watching her looking a bit bemused, she said, "Thanks, Karin-chan. I feel so much better now."

"It was nothing," Karin replied with a shrug. "So, carrots, huh? I never knew you were scared of carrots."

"I'm not scared," Yuzu protested, then did her best to try and explain. "They just reminded me of being back at the 6th and everything we've left behind, I guess."

At those words, Karin's face crumbled slightly, and she looked away obviously fighting to get it back under control. "I just hope everyone else is okay," she said when she had. 

"Like nii-chan," Yuzu said, hugging her knees to her chest. 

"And everyone else. The division's down a captain again, though I bet Yoruichi steps in." Karin barked a laugh. "That Soifon'll finally get what she was after."

"Not for long," Take said. Yuzu jumped. She'd forgotten they weren't alone. "Shiba-taichō'll be back, quick as a flash, you'll see," Take continued. She was sitting on a rice straw bale a small distance away with Sado beside her. He appeared to be trying to peel one of the carrots with his sword. 

Yuzu studied him for a moment before saying, "Are we allowed to have a fire?"

"Why?"

Once Yuzu described what she planned to do, Take gave in and dug a small firepit in the middle of the barn. She made them clear the floor first though, and move all the bales to the edges, before stacking the armful of wood Sado had fetched in and lighting it with kidō. The fire was small, but big enough for what Yuzu needed. Karin found a metal pot from somewhere and filled it from the water pump outside while Sado managed to peel about half the carrots. 

While he was doing that, Yuzu measured out rice from the other sack. It was brewing rice, so it'd need longer to cook than usual. That wasn't a problem. Since it was still snowing outside, they'd not be going anywhere for a while, Yuzu was sure. 

When the rice was almost done, Yuzu added the chopped up carrots and a small handful of ashes from the edge of the fire. Sado frowned at her as she sprinkled it into the pot, so she explained, "We've no salt, so this will give everything a bit more flavour." He still didn't look convinced. Not that she cared; she was used to people not understanding the way food worked and he'd see soon enough when he tasted it. 

The meal was cooked soon after, Yuzu adding a swirl of sake for even more flavour just before taking it off the fire. Compared to their normal fare, it was basic, and they had to eat with their hands out of the single pot, but not a one of them complained. Yuzu bolted down her share, revelling in the heat that settled along with the food in her belly. With no reiryoku, she didn't actually need to eat, but ever since coming to Soul Society she had done so anyway. It was habit, she supposed. That and being surrounded by people who did get hungry. Not joining them for meals would have been yet another wedge between them and her.

With multiple 'gouchisousama deshitas' ringing in her ears, Yuzu let the others clear up and stayed close to the fire as it burned itself out. The others soon came and joined her, and they all sat staring at the fading orange glow, the unanswered questions from earlier rearing their ugly heads yet again.

It was Take who broke the silence. "We're in third district south and things are only gonna get rougher. If we're planning on staying out, we need to make plans. If not, I wanna know where we're headed and why. There's nothing I hate more than travelling blind."

Karin and Sado exchanged significant looks, though it was Karin who spoke. "Ichi-nii said he'll meet us in the living world, which means the Kyōraku senkaimon-"

"Twelve east. That's not so bad," Take interrupted with a nod. "Though surviving amongst humans ain't gonna be no easier than-"

"But there's somewhere we need to go first," Karin concluded right over the top of her. 

Take subsided with a frown. "And where would that be?" she asked.

"Rokushō," Karin replied. Her eyes had taken on that hard edge again, the one that made her seem so distant and alien.

"That's the same distance in the exact opposite direction," Take protested. "What's so damned important you've gotta go all the way out there?"

Again Karin and Sado exchanged glances, this time complete with meaningful eyebrow wiggles. Finally Karin huffed and said, "It's family, okay? They need to get out and there's no one else who can get a warning to them."

"Family?" Take's eyes flicked back and forth between Karin and Sado. "Shiba?"

"No. Kurosaki," Karin said, her gaze meeting Yuzu's with a kind of pleading frown that made Yuzu's stomach flip-flop, because there was only two people that could possibly be. Karin confirmed it with her next words. "Mom's adopted brother and his son."

"Ryū-jichan and Uryū-kun?" Yuzu gasped. 

Back behind Karin, Sado nodded. He looked grave and serious, and Yuzu remembered that he'd been a schoolfriend of Uryū's too. How long had Sado known about them being in Soul Society? Was she the only one who hadn't? 

Karin was speaking, "I'm sorry we never told you, but Ichi-nii and me agreed that it was better you didn't know until we could make sure they were safe." 

"Why wouldn't they be safe?" Yuzu asked. "Is someone after them?" 

"If they're your mother's kin, they're Quincy," Take said, eyes narrowing. "Who else knows they're in Rukongai?"

"Apart from family, only Yoruichi, though she doesn't know where they are, we don't think," Karin replied. 

"Family again-" Take began, only for Karin to wave her off. 

"Our cousin, Shiba Ganju is sheltering them. Ichi-nii planned to adopt them into the clan once things settled down, but they never did and now with this whole thing…" she gestured around her. 

Silence fell for a significant moment, then Take slapped her hands on her knees and said, "If Shihōin-sama knows and wants them arrested, it's too dangerous to even send a warning. You might as well cut your losses and give them up for lost."

Karin glowered at her. "If my brother heard you saying that-" she began. 

Sado cut in over her, voice quiet but determined. "Ichigo said we had to listen to Karin. If Karin says we need to go to Rokushō, then we're going to Rokushō."

"Take-san, they're family, we have to go," Yuzu said, adding her voice to the plea. 

Inside, her belly was tying itself in knots. Back before, so many people had tried to tell her that Ryū-jichan and Uryū were dead, and she'd always denied it, hanging onto the hope that maybe there'd been some other reason for their disappearance. But now, finding out they were here, dead the same as she was, she didn't know whether to be sad for them or happy for herself, because at least she'd get to see them again, and that thought made her heart so light and happy.

Take was looking around at them. "You're all set on doing this?" she asked finally.

"Yes!" came the answer in chorus. 

Yuzu smiled as Take shook her grizzled head. "You're insane, the lot of you," she said, "But we'll set off as soon as it's light."

*

Two whole days passed before Tsukishima returned. By then Ichigo was getting antsy, and Tsukishima was the last person he wanted to see. "What the hell do you want?" he asked as the cell door opened and Tsukishima walked in. He was lying on the futon, his back safely to the wall, and didn't plan on moving.

"I was hoping to talk about your sister," Tsukishima replied, dismissing the guard. "However if you're not in the mood, I should return later."

"Or not at all."

 _Remember you're supposed to be his friend now,_ Ossan pointed out.

Ichigo scowled, hiding the expression by turning his face into pillow. _I'm not breaking his neck. That'll have to do._

 _Loser, ya even suck at acting!_ Zangetsu carolled, and it was that teasing poke more than Ossan's sage advice that got Ichigo moving. He sat up, keeping his back to the wall and Tsukishima firmly in line of sight. Forcing a half-smile to his face, he said, "Nah, it's okay. It'll be good to have company. I was just hoping you were Yoruichi, is all." 

"Ah." Tsukishima nodded in understanding and took a seat on the far end of the futon. "There's still no word on the challenge fight."

"No, and Yoruichi promised she let me know by yesterday." That wasn't strictly true, but it was close enough to excuse his behaviour. 

What had he been thinking anyway, snapping at Tsukishima like that. The guy was his friend-

A sensation like being smacked round the head caught Ichigo by surprise. His thoughts jumped track from the slow drift back under Tsukishima's spell, to where they should be; wary and on guard. _Nice one, Ossan._

_Who said it was the Quincy,_ Zangetsu replied, sounding deeply resentful.

"I'll try to find out if there's any news," Tsukishima was saying. "In the meantime, your sisters are out in Rukongai in the middle of winter. They could die out there. As your friend, I'm offering to help stop that from happening."

That was interesting. Last time, he'd been all about Yuzu. Now Tsukishima was including Karin. Presumably that meant they were both still missing and that Chad was doing exactly what Ichigo had asked him to, including, hopefully, getting a warning to Ryūken and Uryū. Things were looking up.

But he couldn't say any of that to Tsukishima. Instead, Ichigo said, "Thanks. Seriously, it's good to know there's someone else who gives a damn, but they're not alone. Chad's with them as well as Take probably, and there's no point you ending up in trouble with onmitsukidō when it's not your problem."

Tsukishima grimaced. "I'm glad they're not alone, but two guards aren't enough. Ichigo, be sensible, you don't have to be alone in this. Rely on the people who care about you and your family."

Weasel words. The trouble was Ichigo could feel them working. When he hadn't been fighting against Tsukishima's slow encroachment into his head, Ichigo had spent a good part of his time worrying about his sisters and Chad, out there with no one but themselves to rely on. And, from what Ichigo had gathered, Chad's record for surviving in Rukongai wasn't exactly stellar. He'd ended up captured and handed over to the Gotei. Could the same happen to Yuzu and Karin? Maybe he should tell Tsukishima something.

Another smack, but this time Ichigo just curled his lip and ignored it. No, he didn't trust Tsukishima, so he wouldn't give him the truth, but he didn't trust Kyōraku either or the onmitsukidō, so if he could set them against each other, maybe he could create enough confusion to let their mutual prey slip through the gaps.

"Fine," he said, making it very obvious that he was conceding the point reluctantly. "If you've got to know, they're heading south, to the silver mine I just bought; Ginzan. It's up in the mountains with it's own supply village and everything. They'll be able stay hidden up there for years if they have to."

As Ichigo spoke, Tsukishima began to frown. "Last time you mentioned Rokushō," he said once Ichigo was done. "That's west Rukongai, not south."

Damn, he had told Tsukishima about that. Ichigo hadn't be certain, what with the guy trying to eat his brain at the time! Thinking fast, he said, "I got confused. There's an old Shiba property out there that we discussed opening up again, but Ginzan is definitely where I told Chad to take them."

That was a blatant lie, but logical. It's exactly where Ichigo would have sent them if there hadn't been the option of hiding in the living world.

"I see," Tsukishima said. 

He didn't argue, but Ichigo could see from his expression that he wasn't convinced. Was there anything else Ichigo could say that'd help convince him that Ginzan was the right place? Lying was the only option.

"Look, it had to be there, because it's about the only place in Rukongai that Chad knows. Ask anyone at the 6th and they'll tell you. He came with me when I went to check it out. Him and fourth seat Hashigami." 

Of course Chad hadn't been with them that day since they'd needed to travel at top speed. But only one person apart from them really knew that for a fact. Hashigami. Normally Chad and Ichigo stuck together like glue, so if Tsukishima spoke to any of the unseated, they'd be bound to assume that Chad had gone.

Telling Tsukishima that made him look happier anyway, probably because it gave him a way of double-checking the information. Now Ichigo just had to hope Hashigami didn't give the game away. 

"Ginzan then," Tsukishima said, "I'll send someone out to intercept them… To offer help, obviously."

Sure, of course it'd be for help. Nothing untoward going on here, nothing at all.

Forcing all his hatred for this man back down where it belonged, Ichigo inclined his head. "Thanks. It really means a lot knowing someone's looking out for my sisters. You're a good friend, Tsukishima-sensei. I couldn't ask for better."

_Argh, you're a terrible actor! Keep it simple, idiot!_

_Zangetsu has a point, Ichigo. Don't overplay your hand. You run the risk of tipping him off._

Ichigo blinked through the advice. That had been a bit out of character, he guessed. He never even got that mushy with Renji and Byakuya. Tsukishima was staring at him, so Ichigo forced a smirk onto his face and said, "Now I need to go punch something. Re-establish my street cred. Be a real man."

_Oh, for fuck's sake!_

_Ichigo, please, don't say anything else._

Irritation rising, Ichigo snapped, _Hey! You were the ones who said I needed to not be so nice!_ This was why he'd been glad to be rid of the running commentary. There'd better be a way of switching it off again or, swear to god, the moment he got his zanpakutō back, he was breaking both swords and flushing them.

"Street cred. That's… certainly an interesting turn of phrase," Tsukishima said. "I don't think I've ever heard a noble use it before. Is it something you learnt from your mother?"

Fuck. Tsukishima didn't know that Ichigo wasn't Soul Society born? How was that even possible?

"Or maybe from your friends at… High School?"

Double fuck. Of course he knew, he just thought that pointing it out would give him extra leverage.

Ichigo bit his lip and kept silent. No way was he talking about his friends with this guy, not when even the slightest clue to their identity could leave them open to being hunted down. But he couldn't keep refusing to share either. This whole plan was based on Tsukishima thinking Ichigo was still his BFF, and in that capacity, he should be Ichigo's confidante about things like school. Ichigo should be sharing with him.

But how? He could make up some friends. But even that was risky. He might accidentally point the finger at people he didn't even know, and much as Ichigo didn't want to be responsible for hurting his friends, he didn't want strangers caught up in this either.

Or, he could use Tsukishima's own technique against him. 

Switching to what he hoped was a chummy smile, Ichigo said, "It wasn't the guys at school. But you know that already, since you counselled most of them."

 _I'm not sure that's much better,_ Ossan said, voice worried and low.

Ichigo kind of had to agree. He hadn't meant it to come out like he was pressing Tsukishima's buttons, but it was hard to hide how much he loathed the guy. Channelling that side of his feelings helped Ichigo to not get dragged down by the implanted ones.

Thankfully he was saved digging himself in even deeper by the door to his cell opening. Tsukishima leapt to his feet as Yoruichi strolled in looking as relaxed as she always did. Golden eyes passed once over Tsukishima and came away unimpressed, which actually made Ichigo's mouth a little dry. No way could that reaction have been faked. Yoruichi was still a Tsukishima free zone.

Yuzu wasn't, Ichigo was certain of that. Given how much time they'd spent together, Tsukishima must have got into her head. Take's too, possibly. That bastard. All this time, while Ichigo had been worrying about Aizen fucking with his sister's head, it was Tsukishima who'd got his claws into her. It made Ichigo want to rip the guy's head off.

Oh yeah, no friendship vibe now.

"Consultation over, sensei," Yoruichi was saying. "Now scram."

Tsukishima didn't even hesitate. Dipping Yoruichi a quick bow, he hurried out of the door. She watched him go before turning to Ichigo. "The 4th said you'd suffered a relapse, but you look okay."

"I'm fine. Never been better. When's the challenge?" 

Yoruichi grimaced. "Not for about a week. Maybe more."

"What?" Ichigo demanded, practically levitating to his feet. "You said a day!"

"That was before you had the 'relapse', and before Shunsui argued that it was too close to New Year. Which is in two days, by the way, in case you're losing track of time locked up in here."

Ignoring the snide comment, Ichigo clamped his hands into fists, thought fondly of punching Kyōraku in the nose and muttered, "Bastard." 

"Yeah, well, there's no changing it now," Yoruichi shrugged. "The new judges have made their minds up. You're going to be the main attraction for the first day of spring."

And that was at least a week away, going by the old lunar calendar that Seireitei still followed. 

Shit. A whole week, while Yuzu and Take were loose in Rukongai, being taken to see Ryūken and Uryū, and then through the senkaimon to the living world and Renji and Byakuya.

If either of them managed to make contact with Tsukishima during that time, everything was going to come out. Every single damned secret that Ichigo had been struggling to hide was going to get catapulted right into the arms of his enemies, because Ichigo knew that Tsukishima was going to empty Yuzu like a jug if he ever got his hands on her again. 

He couldn't let that happen. And not just because of the secrets. This was his baby sister. Whatever Tsukishima had done to her mind, Ichigo would still protect her.

But how?

"In related news, they've decided who's answering your challenge."

"I don't care," Ichigo snapped. "I'm more worried about Yuzu."

Yoruichi frowned, then her gaze flicked to the door. "Why? Is this something to do with the doctor? Did he bring news?"

If Ichigo turned Tsukishima in, would that be enough? He licked his lips and threw Tsukishima under the proverbial bus. "He's the one behind the poisoned rice. He just told me he sneaked it into Yuzu's cooking things while she was in class with him."

"Did he now." Yoruichi stood, her whole body shifting from lazy cat to hunting predator as she turned towards the door. "Did he happen to say why?"

Another calculated risk. Deflect, deflect, deflect. Build on what you know. They already suspected someone was gunning for the nobility, just confirm it for them. "I think he was targeting the True First clan-heads. He said something about people born in Seireitei not giving a damn about the rest of us. He knew about me being gaki. That's why he came to treat me himself. He thought I'd be immune, being part Quincy, and was worried he'd been wrong."

"Excellent work," Yoruichi said. "And clever of you to share it with me. People like him might say they care about the little guys, but they're lying. All they're really after is power."

Like everyone else in this stupid gods-forsaken place. There were times when Ichigo felt like just blowing the whole place up. Or leaving them to it. Most of them deserved each other.

And then there were the kids out at Ginzan, and the ones in the camps. Not to mention the poor bastards being sent to the 12th even now. None of _them_ deserved what they were getting.

Someone opened the door. It was Yoruichi leaving. Ichigo let her go. He had nothing else to say to her. All he could hope was that she caught Tsukishima and locked him up before he could hurt Yuzu.

But, as the key turned in the lock, a scrap of something Yoruichi had said came back to him. He was at the window and yelling after her before he thought it through. "What d'you mean, who's answering the challenge? I thought I was fighting Kyōraku!"

Yoruichi turned, walking backwards down the corridor. "Not when you challenge the Gotei. It should be the kenpachi, but she's turned you down, so you get her stand-in instead, you lucky lucky boy!"

There was only one person in the Gotei who could be called that, and a frisson of excited fear ran through Ichigo at the thought of who he was going to face. The man was a monster, and an annoying bastard to boot. 

"It'll be shikai only, no kidō or bankai allowed. So you'd better polish up your skills, Ichi-kun," Yoruichi yelled as she vanished round the corner. "You've got a week to get your act together before you take on Zaraki."

*

It didn't matter how many layers she wore or how close she pressed to Sado's back, Yuzu couldn't stay warm. Because of her, they had to keep stopping, and a journey that should've only taken a day had so far taken two, and they were still only halfway there. When she'd been reduced to tears at her own uselessness for the second night, Take had taken her aside, given her a shake and told her she was being stupid. That Yuzu wasn't the only reason they had to keep stopping. There were patrols everywhere, far more than any of them had been expecting.

"They were talking about the Towa when we left," Karin had said that night. "I think there's been an attack of some kind."

Take had looked sceptical until they'd run into a group of shinigami the following day and ended up spending half an hour hiding up a tree while they all peed in the clearing below. After overhearing those conversations, all of them knew why there were so many patrols around.

A series of massive explosions had virtually wiped the Towa compound off the map. The dead numbered over fifty and included the clan head and all her immediate family. 

"I can't believe it." Take was sitting by the small fire they had allowed themselves this stop. It was for her benefit, Yuzu knew, since the others could keep themselves warm, but everyone huddled around it anyway. This time they were in an abandoned fishing hut on the edges of a huge inland sea that bridged the divide between the south and west quarters. Just this morning they'd crossed the border into west seven and, since the Towa compound was south ten, everyone was hoping the number of patrols would now drop off. 

"The Towa are True First," Take was continuing. "How could someone just take out their castle?"

Karin and Sado exchanged speaking glances over the fire. Yuzu watched them, trying not to feel excluded again. They didn't mean to leave her out, she knew, but it was like they shared a wavelength, communicating in silence like that, and no one was supposed to be able to do that with Karin except Yuzu.

Argh, she was being so selfish again. Karin didn't belong to her, and it wasn't like Yuzu didn't have her own friend. She was much closer to Tsukishima-sensei than Karin was to Sado. After all, he was Ichigo's precious person, not Karin's.

"Maybe it was an inside job," Karin suggested. "It's not like they're the only True First clan to get taken out."

"True," Take agreed. "When that bastard attacked Kuchiki-taichō's family- " She stopped talking suddenly, her gaze flicking up to Karin and then over at Yuzu before dropping to the ground in a way Yuzu had never seen Take do before. "Let's pretend I didn't say any of that," she mumbled, flushing like she'd been about to confess something terrible.

What it was, Yuzu never got a chance to ask since Karin's stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, attracting everyone's attention. "Damn," Karin cursed quietly, pressing a hand to her belly. "I guess staying warm uses lots of reiatsu." And they'd not found much to eat after that first night. Poor Karin, she had to be starving.

"Yeah, and sitting still's just gonna make us colder. We should get moving," Take said, standing up and kicking at the fire. It smoked as it died, which would be worrying if half the skyline wasn't already filled with lines of smoke from the fishing communities that dotted the beaches. 

As always, they kept an eye out for possible sources of supplies as they travelled. Abandoned farms were good for old seed stock. Working ones potentially better, though they always carried the danger of discovery. Not that a simple soul from Rukongai would stand a chance against armed shinigami, but Yuzu knew none of them wanted to kill, even if it was to keep their presence a secret.

Staying off the roads in west seven was easier said than done. The mountains in south six had been full of pathways and tracks. West seven was desolate by comparison. As the hills rose, the temperature dropped, and a kind of freezing rain started up, blown into their faces by vicious gusts of wind. Yuzu clung to Sado's back and shivered uncontrollably. He stopped once, to strip off his haori and hand it over to her. Embarrassed and humiliated, Yuzu tried to turn it down, but he insisted and, when both Karin and Take joined the chorus, she had no choice but to accept.

They continued on, the wind getting stronger and the freezing rain turning to real snow, but strangely it seemed to Yuzu that the temperature grew warmer. She even stopped shivering and managed to grab a few minutes of sleep every now and again. She'd have got more if the others had let her. Instead they kept stopping and talking to her, telling her to stay awake. Several times she opened her eyes to find Karin's hands glowing with bright blue-white reiatsu around hers. They sounded worried too, which was silly. Yuzu was fine.

*

"Yuzu. Yuzu! Come on! Wake up!"

Someone was shaking her. Yuzu tried to bat at them, but her hands didn't want to move. 

She wished they'd leave her alone. Sleeping was so nice.

*

Heat scorched down her side. She flinched away from it with a sad whining,"Nooo."

"I'm sorry. I know it's uncomfortable but you've got to let me." It was Karin's voice. Karin; her sister, her twin. The most important person in Yuzu's world. Still complaining a little, Yuzu let her do what she wanted and went back to sleep.

*

She woke sweating and shaking. It was so hot! Something was pressing her down, suffocating her. She shoved at it, trying to get free, trying to breathe.

"Don't! Yuzu, leave the blankets alone." Someone grabbed her hands, so she kicked instead, desperate to get free and get some air on her body before she burned away completely. "Take, help! I can't hold her still!"

Other hands, pinning her legs as well. Given no other option, Yuzu tried to bite. She could feel panic rising and her mind started playing tricks on her. That wasn't Karin's voice any longer, it was a man's. A man who was holding her down and saying something, saying… 

'This isn't working, we need to try something different.'

Yuzu shivered. She knew that voice. It haunted every one of her nightmares.

'If you'd just stop playing with her and give the technique a chance to work properly, she'd be fine.'

Oh, that was where she was.

Yuzu stopped fighting and reached out, letting strong warm hands wrap around hers. If Tsukishima-sensei was here, everything would be fine, even if it was just a dream.

*

Raised voices woke her the next time. She was beyond cold, shivering so hard that every muscle hurt. Around her, people were shouting, something about this being their place and what the hell did you people think you were doing?

She recognised Karin and Take, both of them hard and angry. Then Sado-san, calm and deep-voiced as he said, "Wait. We mean no harm. Our friend is sick and needs help."

A girl's voice came next, one Yuzu didn't recognise. "I don't care if they're sick. This is our place. You people have no right to be here!"

"Hiyori, enough," someone else said. Another woman, with a gentle, kind voice. "We can't turn away someone who's sick."

"What about afterwards, eh? When they go running off to tell people we're here? What then? Those damned shinigami'll be out here and-"

"We won't tell anyone." That was Sado again. 

Numb fingers fumbled a small gap in the cloak and Yuzu peeked out. She couldn't see well, when she tried to focus everything had a kind of halo around it, but they seemed to be in a forest, except the walls were made of rock. Nearby stood Take and Karin with their hands poised over their swords. Sado stood in front of them. He wasn't holding anything and had his hands spread wide in front of him. 

They were facing a small group of people. One of them, a small woman with loose blond hair, stomped around angrily. The shouty one, Yuzu decided, as the woman turned and glared at Sado and the others. Behind her stood another woman, very tall and slim with grey hair scraped back into a braid at the back of her head. The other speaker? 

Other figures gathered in the shadows behind them, some tall, others short. All were wrapped in shapeless winter clothing, but these two were obviously in charge.

"How do we know that?" the small woman - Hiyori, had the other said? - demanded to know.

"Because the Gotei are searching for us as well."

"Sado-san," Take hissed.

"No, he's right," Karin said. "If we take Yuzu back out there, she's going to die. Unless you want to kill a dozen unarmed people, we have to get them to let us stay." She paused before adding in a grumbly tone, "And it's not like it isn't true."

"Why, you thieves or something?" Hiyori demanded. There was something odd about her face. Her hair hid some of it but her features looked misshapen and only one eye peered out from behind its curtain of blond strands. "You look like thieves, with those swords."

Take immediately took offence. "Hey, this is my zanpakutō!" she asserted, drawing herself up to her full height, her hand finally coming to rest on the hilt of her sword. 

At her words, the whole atmosphere changed. Hiyori spun towards them in a crouch, her hands outstretched, and Yuzu could see the kidō building. The grey-haired woman swept her cloak from her shoulder and produced a wickedly curved scythe, just as several others did the same, revealing hatchets, double pronged forks and sharpened sticks. 

But they're just gardening tools, Yuzu thought as Hiyori hissed, "Shakkahō," and scarlet fire exploded from her hands. 

It hit Sado full in the chest. Yuzu whimpered as he jerked and curled slightly, but he didn't fall. Nor did he draw his sword. And when both Karin and Take began to draw theirs, Sado raised his hand at them. "No," he gasped, and Yuzu could hear how much it pained him to speak. "They're not our enemies. We don't fight."

"But she just blasted you with a level thirty hadō!" Take protested.

"Because they're scared."

"I'm not fucking scared," Hiyori snarled. "And this one's gonna finish ya off, ya shinigami scum!" She was still crouched, another kidō charging, but before she could release it, the grey-haired woman said, "Enough, Hiyori, I'm calling a truce."

"What?" demanded Hiyori, the kidō dying in her palms as she turned to stare at the woman in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because if you kill him when he refuses to draw his sword, you're no better than they are."

"Thank you, lady," Sado said, and tried to bow. He staggered and went down on one knee, fist pressed to the floor as he fought for breath. 

The grey-haired woman rushed towards him, only stopping when Take went for her sword again. "I'm a healer," the woman said, holding up her hand. "Your friend is hurt, let me help him."

"Healer?" Karin's gaze snapped back to Yuzu. Despite the distance, their eyes immediately met and Karin let out an agonised cry. "Yuzu! Oh my god, you're awake. Finally!" 

After that, things became confusing again. Karin wouldn't stop hugging her and crying, which was silly since Yuzu was fine now, sort of. She also, slowly, began to warm up. 

The grey-haired woman helped with that. Her name was Isane and one of her arms was made of metal. 

"It's so pretty," Yuzu said, staring at it, hypnotised. It was made up of tiny cogs and springs, bars and pistons, all delicate moving parts that whirled and twirled through the green glow of the healing reiatsu that surrounded it.

"You think?" Isane asked with a small smile.

"Hmm," Yuzu nodded. "The wheels look like tiny stars. All glowy and pretty."

Isane glanced down at her arm. "I suppose they do, a little. I'd never thought of them that way before. Hiyori will be pleased."

She was fixing the damage to Yuzu's toes and fingers. It'd been hypothermia and frostbite, which was obvious in retrospect. When the fog in her mind cleared some, Yuzu made a note to herself to remember what it had felt like just in case she ever had to treat someone with that problem. Isane fixed Sado too, and someone brought food, a hot stew that smelt wonderful and tasted delicious. 

Yuzu ate and slept and ate again, and finally began to feel well enough to take an interest in her surroundings. She was in a tent, she realised. A tent cluttered with so many boxes and bundles that Yuzu's mattress was laid fairly close to the door. Pushing aside quilts and furs, she crawled over and pushed the door-flap open.

The world outside turned out to be a wonderful impossible place. They were in a cave, but it was huge. Vast. So big that Yuzu could barely make out the walls. There was a giant hole in the roof and, where the sun reached the ground, trees grew, stretching tall branches up to the sky so very far above. There were other plants too. Yuzu recognised onions and burdock, cabbages and small patches of bamboo; and though it wasn't exactly warm, the cold was nothing like as severe as out on the mountain. 

Eager to see more, Yuzu struggled to her feet, her new bulky clothing making it difficult to move her arms and legs. Thankfully, Take appeared before she could do herself any real damage and slipped a hand under her arm, helping her gain her balance. 

"Where are we?" she asked.

"West seven, believe it or not," Take replied. As they made their way away from the tent, Yuzu discovered it wasn't the only one. There were several dotted around the place and most of them had someone sitting outside, working at something. She saw straw being plaited into rope, tools being carefully repaired, and clothing being stitched by hand. 

She stopped there to watch for a while, the flash of a silver needle reminding her of cousin Uryū, though the old lady's sewing was even faster than his. The coat she was making was similar to the one Yuzu had been given, made of colourful scraps of cloth quilted into layers. Yuzu snuggled hers up around her neck. They might not look very stylish, but they were incredibly warm. When the old lady glanced up, Yuzu smiled at her and nodded a bow, just in case she'd been the one to make it.

The next stop was the toilet, not much more than a hole in the ground with screens around it, and by the time they'd finished there, Yuzu was flagging. So when Take directed her back towards the firepit outside her own tent, she went without complaint. She might have winter-weight tabi on now but her toes still tingled like they weren't quite right and her limbs felt very heavy. 

Sitting down, she yawned hugely, flushing when she caught Take watching her. "Sorry," she said. "I know I've been sleeping for ages, but somehow I'm still tired."

Take smiled slightly, though her eyes looked worried. "It's okay. You almost died, so you're allowed to sleep for a while."

Had she almost died? It was possible. She'd definitely stopped shivering at one point and that was never a good sign with hypothermia.

A boy, who looked about nii-chan's age, walked slowly across the camp, carrying a bucket in shaking hands. Water slopped over the edge and Yuzu half expected Take to go and help him, but she didn't. Instead she took a seat beside Yuzu and simply watched.

"Who are they?" Yuzu asked, once the boy had delivered his load to a larger firepit that appeared to be a central cooking area. Sado and Karin were there, deep in conversation with Hiyori and Isane.

"Just civilians," Take replied, which wasn't the kind of answer Yuzu was looking for at all. She owed these people her life. The least she could do was learn about them in turn.

The boy appeared again, carrying a tray with painstaking care and heading towards them. This time Take did stand and, when the boy arrived, she took the two steaming bowls of tea and handed one to Yuzu, though she didn't acknowledge or thank him.

It was too much. Before she could second guess herself, Yuzu blurted at the boy, "Why are you helping us?" 

Rather than being shocked by her sudden question, the boy looked at her and then slowly away. His skin was pasty pale like he'd been ill and it made the thin moustache on his top lip stand out. "I guess because Isane-san told us to?" he said ponderously.

"You always do what Isane-san says?" Take asked. She was speaking to the boy, but her eyes were on Karin and Sado.

He turned his head towards her. "I guess," he said, equally slowly. 

Perhaps he was sick, and he was out here because there were people who would look after him. It would fit with Hiyori's face and Isane's arm. And they weren't the only ones. As they'd been crossing the camp, Yuzu had noticed several people with missing limbs. It was unusual. You didn't often see people with those types of life-changing injuries back in Seireitei, even at the 4th. Not common people, anyway. Nobles came in sometimes and Unohana-taichō did her best to fix them. Sometimes Kurotsuchi-taichō from the 12th came to help her, or even Aizen-sama…

"Oi, Yuzu, you're spilling your tea!"

Yuzu jerked awake at the sound of Karin's voice and realised she was right. Cold tea dripped over her fingers to dampen the quilt across her legs. She righted the bowl and put it aside, blinking sleepily. She didn't even remember falling asleep, though it was understandable with her still getting over the hypothermia.

Karin crouched down beside her. "Look," she said, her gaze firmly on her hands. "We didn't want to do this, but time's getting on and we need to tell ji-chan and the others about what happened in Seireitei."

Of course they did. "You're going to leave me here," Yuzu said, trying not to feel like she was being abandoned. She'd being saying all along that they'd be faster without her, and here was the proof.

Karin looked up, her expression twisted with chagrin. "Do you mind? I know it seems mean, but we can go so much faster-"

"I'm fine," Yuzu interrupted. "Honestly. Go and warn Ryū-jichan and then come fetch me. I'll be fine right here."

The corners of Karin's mouth quirked up slightly. "Course you will. I bet you'll have the place running like clockwork by the time we get back."

If she could manage to stay awake for two hours strung together, Yuzu would call it a win. But she knew her sister well enough to humour her. "Better than clockwork," she said with a smile.

*

New Year was about as boring as Ichigo feared it would be with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Well, not _nothing_ to do. Yoruichi had sent him a book to read. It was called, _Your Sword and You,_ was by someone called Nimaiya Ōetsu, and was actually quite interesting once you got past the whole overblown language thing. The author definitely knew their zanpakutō and, by the time he'd read his way through the relevant chapter, Ichigo was having no problems sitting jinzen even with the collar around his neck.

It was a good thing too, since his inner world was the only place he could train. Sure, it was cramped with only the Senzaikyū to practice in, but Zangetsu had grudgingly lent him a blade, so Ichigo and Ossan could spar some. Then they'd swapped around, with Ichigo taking the tanto and doing his best not to get stabbed to death by Zangetsu. It wasn't ideal, but it beat sitting around doing nothing.

Unfortunately he couldn't stay in there all day, everyday. For one thing, he just might accidentally-on-purpose kill Zangetsu, because seriously no one person had reason to be that freaking annoying. Plus, he needed to do things like eat and sleep and use the pot in the corner that he was referring to in his mind as the toilet.

It was during one of those breaks, when he was chowing down on a box of osechi, traditional new year's food, which for the record was nowhere near as good as the stuff Yuzu made, that he spotted a light outside his cell. Curious, and eager for anything that wasn't talking to himself in some form or another, Ichigo put his food to one side and headed over to the door. 

Out in the corridor, floating about a foot off the ground, was a what looked like a ball of blue fire. Ichigo stared at it as it bobbled and spun in place. Some kind of kidō? The colour wrong for a shakkahō, the shape too static for a fushibi, so if it was a kidō, Ichigo hadn't a clue what it was or what it might do. 

He was still puzzling on it when the air in front of the ball shimmered. A heartbeat later, a figure appeared dressed in a long pale grey cloak with a hood deep enough to hide the wearer's face.

It was late on new year's eve. The guards had wished him a happy new year earlier, so there shouldn't be anyone around. Plus, whoever that was, they hadn't come in the usual way. 

The hooded figure approached. Ichigo stepped back from the door nervously, and was rewarded by a low chuckle and a voice saying, "Getting worried, Ichigo-kun?

Ichigo didn't answer. The voice had been familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Then a thin long-fingered hand pushed the hood down and Ichigo knew exactly who'd come to visit. 

"Ichimaru," he hissed.

"My my, how informal y'are today," Ichimaru purred, his smile widening. A mean feat since it already spread from ear to ear. "And here's me come to be all friendly like and offer ya a little favour."

"I don't want any favours from you," Ichigo replied, forcing himself not to step back again when Ichimaru wrapped skeletal fingers around the bars on the door. "You might have been dad's lieutenant, but I don't like you and I don't trust you."

Ichimaru pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm wounded, really. What have I ever done ta make you feel that way about me?"

"It wasn't what you did, it was what you didn't do," Ichigo spat in reply, temper rising again at the memory. "Back at that stupid trial, you knew there was no way Renji had tried to kill Byakuya but you never said a word. You could have backed me up. You didn't. That makes you a liar and a traitor in my book."

"Strong words, for a man locked up for trying to kill off his noble peers." When Ichigo didn't reply, Ichimaru continued, "Did ya know Bya-kun sent me a note before he left. Such a sweet letter, full of words of love and forgiveness." 

He stopped, as though waiting to see if Ichigo would take the bait this time. Ichigo didn't. He wasn't playing this game, not again. Ichimaru didn't play by any rules that Ichigo knew, talking to him was like supping with the devil using a teaspoon. 

Finally, Ichimaru let out a long sigh, "Well actually, no, it wasn't full of love, but Bya-kun did ask me to keep an eye out for you. An' that's exactly what I've been doing."

Okay, that one wasn't slipping past. "In what way!" Ichigo demanded. "We've hardly spoken since Byakuya left!"

This time Ichimaru did contrive to look genuinely hurt. "Ya mean ya don't remember me turning the others against Kyōraku when he wanted ta take yer division away?"

"Well, okay," Ichigo conceded, "but only after you told everyone I should be killed for using Quincy powers!"

Ichimaru wrinkled his nose. "Details, details," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Now, do ya wanna know why I'm here or not?"

The answer should be no, but Ichigo knew that if he said that, he'd spend the whole night wondering. Folding his arms, he glared at Ichimaru through the bars. "Go on then."

Now Ichimaru's smile had teeth. Had they always been that pointed? "A trip ta the living world. Central Tokyo. One way, one night only. No refunds, no exchanges."

"What?" Ichigo said, genuinely confused. Of all the things he'd been expecting Ichimaru to offer, it hadn't been this. "How?"

"Ah, call it an innate gift," Ichimaru replied. Behind him the ball of fire floated higher so it was just above his shoulder. "Now, ya interested or not? Time's a-ticking."

It was tempting. Gods, but it was tempting. A simple yes and he'd be in the living world, just a hop and skip from Renji and Byakuya in Karakura. He'd be out of jail, out of Seireitei. He wouldn't have to fight anyone or do anything except be with his lovers.

And everyone else would go hang. 

Fuck. 

"I can't," Ichigo said, hearing the regret in his voice.

Ichimaru's matched it. "I had a feeling ya might say that. And I'm genuinely sorry for ya, Ichigo-kun." He dipped his head, let go of the bars and turned away.

Now he had his answer, he was obviously leaving and the favour would still be owed, if that was what this was. Ichimaru had said that Byakuya forgave him in the letter.

But, Ichigo couldn't help wondering, since he'd turned the favour down, would Ichimaru be willing to spend it on another Shiba?

"Before you go," he said quickly, "My sister, Yuzu. That bastard Tsukishima's got to her. _I_ don't need your help, but she might. Can you keep an eye on her instead of me?"

Ichimaru froze, his back still turned to Ichigo. Something moved under his cloak at ground level and Ichigo shivered. For a second it had looked like a furry tail, maybe more than one, a lot more, but that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Ya want a favour?" And there was something in Ichimaru's voice that made all the hairs on Ichigo's neck stand on end. 

He gritted his teeth, bit back nerves, and said, "No, I want to spend the one you think you owe Byakuya on Yuzu."

"What's she to him," Ichimaru said dismissively. "Excess baggage, nothing more. Now, if we were talking about ya other sister…"

"Karin's fine. She's not in danger," Ichigo insisted. "Yuzu is. Tsukishima's on Aizen's payroll and-"

Ichimaru was suddenly back at the door, both hands curled around the bars. Instead of nails, his fingers were now tipped with long black claws. "Ya know this ta be true?" he demanded.

Not conclusively, but probably. Byakuya had seemed certain that Aizen was behind what had happened to Renji, and Tsukishima had been one of the witnesses. So had Yuzu and Tamiko, and Yuzu was almost definitely under Tsukishima's influence, which put her under Aizen's and… crap. There was a time for secrets and this wasn't one of them. 

"Yes," he said, justifying the white lie against Yuzu's safety. "Aizen's using him to infiltrate families and probably divisions too. His zanpakutō screws with your head, makes you think he's your friend. It's strong too. If he asks, you'll do anything for him."

"Sounds like ya speaking from experience there, Ichigo-kun," Ichimaru said warily. "Not setting a trap for me are ya?"

If he was, he wouldn't exactly let Ichimaru in on it, but the question was valid. "I got partial immunity." Arms still folded, Ichigo glared at the floor and scuffed his foot against it. "I don't understand exactly how it works, but it's something to do with being Byakuya's sworn vassal. There's a thing, with the zanpakutō. Ossan says part of him still belongs to Byakuya and that's how come he was immune to Tsukishima's shikai, or bankai, or whatever it was."

When he'd finished, Ichigo lifted his head. Ichimaru was staring at him, both eyes slitted open. They were the exact same shade of shocking bright blue as the ball of fire behind him. "Ya gave ya zanpakutō to Bya-kun?" he said. "He means that much to ya?"

That hadn't been the driving force at the time, but Ichigo had never regretted it. Not really. "I love him. He loves me, I think."

"Oh, he does. Take it from one who knows," Ichimaru said with a wave of his hand. "You'd be dead by now if he didn't, with half the tricks you pulled." 

There was that. "So, does that mean you'll keep an eye on Yuzu?" Ichigo asked, dragging the conversation back on track again.

Ichimaru studied him for a long moment, and then nodded. "I can't be making any promises, but I'll do mah best to keep her safe."

That was good enough. Ichigo dipped his head. "Thank you, Ichimaru-taichō," he said, but when he looked up, Ichimaru was already gone.


	14. Sunny Afternoon (with Storm Front Rising)

Byakuya had hoped that the effects of the little pink pill would have worn off by the time Renji returned and club opened. Not because he wanted to sleep, his dreams were hardly something to be actively pursued of late, but because he was aware on some level that his behaviour was not exactly normal. For one thing he was talking far too much. And in too much depth about things that, in truth, should remain private. 

When the effects first cut in, Byakuya had found himself describing in detail how he'd decided on the design for Renji's tattoos and how he'd stayed to watch the horishi engrave the ink into Renji's skin. To start with Mendori had seemed fascinated, but then the conversation had been sparked by Byakuya noting the very attractive koi design which graced Mendori's arm, so the man obviously had a prior interest. However he soon became bored, apparently not as interested as Byakuya in Renji's reactions to the needle, though it was a subject that Byakuya could happily dwell on for hours.

It was the strength of it, the power. Like everything else about Renji, watching his skin tremble with self-imposed restraint as the needle plunged home again and again, had brought Byakuya to erotic heights he'd hardly imagined. And taking Renji home afterwards to retrace those lines with his own fingers, eliciting the same response at a time and place of his choosing, had created an addiction that Byakuya had never truly sated.

But no more. As he had told Mendori, that was no longer part of their relationship. Renji now danced to his own tune and directed Byakuya as he would.

Oddly, that had met with Mendori's approval and elicited his only contribution to their whole conversation. "Sounds right," he'd said. "Can only be one man in a relationship." Which was a very odd thing for him to say since it was obvious to anyone that both Byakuya and Renji were men and were in a relationship. Soon after that, Mendori had taken his newspaper and left.

With nothing else to amuse him and no one to speak to, Byakuya had started cleaning. The initial task had taken very little time. He and Renji had the routine down and there was little to do on a daily basis, so within a couple of hours Byakuya again found himself at a loose end. Cleaning the club a second time seemed like a logical progression of activity and Byakuya set to with a will, determined to remove every speck of dirt from floors, walls, windows and doors. 

As he worked, he found himself singing. The music played at the club was often catchy and repetitive with easy to remember lyrics and simple harmonies. Byakuya repeated several, enjoying the sensation of air through his throat and the stretch and flex of lungs inflating to the fullest.

He was on his fourth clean through when Lee arrived. The host's hair was deep purple today and styled into a low crest across his head. Byakuya greeted him with a polite, 'good day' and continued his work, but, rather begin his own preparations for the night, Lee leaned on the bar and watched.

Byakuya bore the scrutiny for a while before pausing, cloth in rubber-gloved hand, to ask, "Is there a problem?"

"Nope," Lee replied. He had one elbow propped on the bar, chin resting on his palm, and was smiling as though greatly amused by something. 

Byakuya checked behind himself, and then at his clothing, in case he was the source of this amusement, but could find nothing untoward. "Have I perhaps said or implied something humorous?" he tried.

"Nah. Was just wondering what he gave you, is all."

Ah, that was the issue. "It was a small pink pill," Byakuya told him, describing the size with thumb and forefinger. "The results are remarkable. I'm feeling very awake."

Lee's smirk turn into a full blown snicker. "Bet y'are." He stood up and shot the sleeves of his leather jacket. "Enjoy ya crash later. First one's always a doozy."

If by that Lee had meant the effects of the drug wearing off, then no 'crash' had happened. Renji returned from his first day's training at four and Byakuya met him, still very much awake, but determined not to repeat his mistake of that morning. He needn't have worried. Renji was far too excited by his own day to be overly bothered by the details of Byakuya's. 

Arisawa-sensei had found a way of allowing Renji to use the door on the safe-room. The joy with which Renji had shared this piece of news was heartening. Ever since they'd arrived in the living world, a pall had hung over Renji. Despite his determination to be professional and proficient, he had all too often seemed to struggle with his own mood. Now that air of helplessness was entirely gone. Renji's grin, as he regaled Byakuya with a detailed account of the kata and suburi that had filled his day, was broad, toothy and confident. 

Byakuya was content to sit and listen, the first moments of stillness he'd had in hours. It wasn't easy and he felt a continual need to fidget and twitch, but he held himself still, lessons learnt at his uncle's hand standing him in good stead once again. Afterwards, once Renji had changed and retreated downstairs in time for the club to open, Byakuya decided to continue the discipline. Cross-legged on the futon, he steadied his breathing, emptied his mind and for the first time since Senbonzakura had been stolen from him, deliberately stepped through into his inner world. 

The tent was as empty as Byakuya expected it to be, as was the battlefield outside, but rather than the fear and despair that had haunted every previous visit, this time Byakuya felt invigorated by the vacancy. It was as though the energy that had coursed through his veins all day was now directed inward, filling up the empty spaces and creating a wave of forward momentum that would carry Byakuya with it whether he willed it or no. 

And along with that tide came the inexorable conclusion that Byakuya could not allow this state of affairs to continue. He had to find some way of coping with Senbonzakura's loss. 

Standing on the empty bone-littered battlefield, the tent to his back, he surveyed his inner world. As a manifestation of his soul, it was a rather pathetic place, all things considered. In the past, Byakuya had thought of it as poignant, as speaking to the depths of pain that dominated his past, but really, it was more a child's indulgence than anything truly real. 

Take the skeletons, for example. 

Byakuya wandered over to the first of them and crouched down to take a closer look. Disjointed and weathered, it was little more than a pile of bones in its current state and seemed like a frail framework on which to hang Senbonzakura's power. 

Had they always been this way? Byakuya couldn't remember. It had been years since he'd bothered to look so closely, and back then every one of the dead had been clad in armour. Now that armour was gone, which left them exposed, yes, but looked at another way, they were also unconstrained. A foot soldier in heavy armour was restricted in how far or fast he may travel. Remove that armour and you removed the restriction. 

Likewise the weapons.

The heavy naginata jammed into the ground beside the skeleton was nothing but a burden if one wished to travel fast and light. By shedding all this excess load, could Byakuya not at least create something of worth out of this wasteland?

Standing, he drew in a breath, focused his will and lifted his hands. Around him, the bones stirred.

*

The boy's name was Shige and he was suffering from lead poisoning. Yuzu sat by the communal firepit after everyone else had gone back to their tasks and tried not to watch as he struggled to eat his bowl of rice with a spoon. She wished there was something she could do to help, but there wasn't. Even Isane couldn't do anything.

"He might get better by himself," she'd said when Yuzu had asked about it. "Now he's out of that dreadful mine."

When Yuzu had asked which mine, Isane had avoided the question. She did that a lot, especially about more general things. The specifics she was quite happy to share. 

"We grow all kinds of vegetables in the summer. And some of us go fishing in the mountain streams. There's even salmon to be caught in the bigger rivers."

That sounded like fun, and like they'd done it a lot. "How long have you all been living here?" Yuzu had asked, to no avail. Some questions just didn't get answered.

The bowl in Shige's hands took on a dangerous list. Yuzu couldn't stand it any longer. Putting her own empty tea bowl aside, she went over to him, sat beside him, and said, "Would it help if I held the bowl for you?"

Shige blinked at her, but she'd got used to how long it took him to process a question, and it wasn't like she had anything else to do. The others had left three days ago, all Yuzu could do until they got back was sit here and wait.

"Maybe?" Shige said finally, holding the bowl out a bit tentatively. 

Yuzu took it, cradled it both her hands and held it up at the height Shige had been holding it before. Shige dipped his spoon and, using one shaking hand to steady the other, managed to get an almost full spoonful into his mouth. He grinned at her around the rice, showing off dark-stained teeth and gums. "Fank you."

She smiled back and propped her elbows on her knees to keep the bowl steady. "No problem. It's nice to have something to do." 

"Hard work is important. Like good food and rest."

"It is, but too much can get boring." And now she was feeling better, Yuzu hated sitting around doing nothing.

Shige nodded at her enthusiastically. "I like the work here. The air smells clean. But it's much colder."

"It was warmer where you lived before?"

That won her a slightly less vigorous nod, probably because Shige had begun attacking the rest of the rice. With both hands to guide the spoon, he definitely ended up wearing a lot less of his lunch. 

"There was a cave there too," he said eventually. "But the roof wasn't broken. That's why it was warmer."

Yuzu pondered the idea. A mine in a cave had to be too common to be able to work out where he'd come from. 

She sighed. She wasn't even sure why she wanted to know so badly, except Tsukishima-sensei always said you should never pass up the opportunity to learn new things. And maybe, if she could find out where Shige had come from, she could do something to help the other people who were working there.

"Were there a lot of you?" she asked. 

Shige blinked at her again, and this time there was no answer to follow. Yuzu tried again. "At the mine you worked at, were there a lot of people working there?"

"Yes," he said straight away, suddenly very intense. "Many." He balanced his spoon on one knee and flashed full hands of fingers at her several times. "Lots and lots and lots," he said, his voice sounding a bit awed.

A big mine then. Though she couldn't really know for sure, since there were only about fifteen people in this camp, and anything over that would probably be 'many, many, lots' to Shige.

"What did you dig up?"

"Silver," he said immediately, then shoved a big spoonful of rice in his mouth.

That narrowed it down a little, she guessed. Maybe. "Where was it?"

Shige chewed thoughtfully for a while then he said, "Close. I slept most of the way here but I didn't need to pee when I arrived."

That was interesting. If he'd been sleeping, Shige couldn't have just wandered here by himself. "Who were they? The people who brought you?"

Something suddenly hit Yuzu upside the head. She flinched, letting out a cry, and turned around to find Hiyori standing there, fists on her hips. "Quit with the interrogations!" Hiyori yelled, which turned every head in the camp towards them.

"I wasn't!" Yuzu protested, though her cheeks felt hot. 

Hiyori glared at her, single brown eye sharp through a fall of straight yellow hair, and foot tapping against the ground. Yuzu folded like a fan. "I was just asking where he was before. If there's other people working there, I thought maybe we could help them too."

"If there was, they wouldn't need _your_ help," Hiyori snapped. "I can tell a noble when I see one prancing about." 

Her hand strayed to the mostly hidden side of her face in what looked like an unconscious gesture, and for some reason that jogged Yuzu's memory. That swelling and the bruised-looking disfigurement, she knew where she'd seen it before! "You're a negator!" she blurted. Though not a complete one. Not with that eye.

Hiyori flinched, her expression going wide and vulnerable for a second before closing down entirely. "What the hell is it to you?" she shouted. "You gonna drag me back there, let them carve my other eye out?"

Isane appeared beside them. "Hiyori, please stop shouting," she said, "You're upsetting people."

"I'm-!" Hiyori began at top volume. Isane narrowed her eyes and Hiyori's voice dropped by about a decibel. "I'm not the one calling people names," she finished.

"And nor is Yuzu. Negator is a designation, not an insult."

Hiyori's lip curled and she folded her arms across her chest. "Say's you."

"Say's me, and Kaname-san. Now who're you going to listen to."

That won her a reluctant sigh, though no answer. Hiyori was a stubborn sort, Yuzu guessed. Then Isane's attention fell on Yuzu, and Yuzu flinched again, her gaze darting away to look at anything that wasn't the judgement in those dark grey eyes. "I didn't want to do this, since you're a guest amongst us," Isane said. "But please would you keep to your own firepit and not speak to anyone who is not myself or Hiyori for the remainder of your stay."

Embarrassed and humiliated, Yuzu nodded, gathered her coat around her and hurried off back to her own tent. All she'd wanted to do was help.

*

A few days of basic training exercises, just to get back in tune with his body, and Renji was ready for the next step. The one he'd been promising himself for weeks. Shikai. He could taste it. Zabimaru could too, Renji could tell. There was a bubbling of anticipation inside them that only sprung up when they were on the verge of doing something profound together.

 _By the end of today,_ Renji promised.

Zabimaru's answering roar made him grin, earning him some wary glares from the commuters jammed in next to him on the train.

It was early. Rather than sleeping his normal six hours, Renji had made do with a two hour power-nap, before leaving the bar in Mendori's hands and skipping out before Byakuya got back from the sentō. Not that he was avoiding Byakuya specifically. He wasn't really talking to anyone if he could help it. It was stupid, but somewhere deep down, Renji couldn't help believing that if anyone found out what he was trying to do today, the attempt would fail. Once he'd done it, once he'd actually felt the weight of Zabimaru's shikai in his hands, he'd go back and explain. Byakuya would understand. He'd been a lot more laid back in the past few days. All this time apart was really paying off.

"Excuse me, excuse me," Renji muttered, pushing his way to the doors as the train pulled into Karakura. A minute later he was taking the station steps two at a time, his breath a cloud of steam on the cold winter's air, and five minutes after that he was dropping his gigai and letting himself into the safe-room.

This was it.

But first things first. Drawing his sword, Renji took his stance and focused, gathering reiatsu. It built quickly, fuelled by good food and days spent training, and when he had it teetering on the brink of collapsing under its own power, he released it, directing all into the blade via his hand sliding down the flat. "Howl, Zabimaru!" 

As it had before, the blade tried to change, Zabimaru straining against the hold of the seal, trying to force their way free. For a second Renji thought they'd done enough, that this time it would work, but then the sensation folded, all that gathered reiatsu dispersing with a quiet whumph into the air around him. 

Failure, just like he'd expected. He'd only given it go without sitting jinzen first because it'd felt wrong not to at least try. 

Shrugging it off, Renji dropped to the ground, cross-legged, laid Zabimaru across his lap, and closed his eyes. Connecting with Zabimaru wasn't as easy as it used to be. Whatever was blocking shikai was doing a number on communication too, but with a little bit of concentration, they could hook up, sort of.

He opened his eyes again into blazing heat and a vast stretch of sandy waste dotted with tents and carts and people. The proving grounds, the place he'd first called Zabimaru's name and drawn shikai from his old asauchi. It made complete sense that this was the place he'd return to now. 

In the distance, several gaggles of shinigami stood guard over a bunch of people sitting on the ground. Renji set off towards them, keeping a weather eye out for his younger self. That was the way this had gone before. Turn up at some point in his own history, give himself a helping hand, and when he got back to the real world, the seal would have loosened some more. 

Except for the taser thing. Renji had no idea how that had worked.

Not that he understood the rest of it either. He was just doing what he always did, jumping in and making it up as he went along. Most of the time it worked, which drove Byakuya nuts even more than the lack of the planning.

He spotted a shock of familiar red hair amongst the small crowd of manacled prisoners. It was odd. At the time he'd felt like he was one of hundreds chained there in the blazing heat. Looking now, there was probably only about forty of them. Still pretty high for a seasonal run through Rukongai. They'd probably topped up the numbers from one of the final camps. Poor bastards. At least Renji had had a taste of freedom. He knew how to fight, how to want to live. Those poor shits were nothing but lambs to the slaughter.

It started while he was watching. That first pair. Neither of them knew what the hell they were doing. It was pathetic, for the shinigami watching as well as the poor bastards fighting. Everyone knew it was a waste of time but the rules said the prisoners had to be given a chance, so Zaraki handed out the asauchi and stood back while one of the pair got stuck in and the other one screamed and tried to run away.

Blocking out the hackfest - Renji remembered it from the first time. He could live without seeing it again - he focused on his younger self. And, wow. Had he ever been that scrawny? The kid sitting, head down, chained between two bigger guys, was all elbows and knees. His shoulders were still narrow and bony with none of the muscle they'd acquire later, and his clothing was nothing but rags. Scuffed, grazed and as grubby as hell, his eyes were screwed shut and his lips were moving, like he was silently reciting a prayer. 

He wasn't. He was answering the ghostly figure that hovered behind and above him. Part baboon and part snake, it whispered in his ear like it had for months before this, and Renji recalled the words as if it was yesterday. _If you die, we die with you and we're not about to let that happen…_

He hadn't understood at the time. His world hadn't included things like zanpakutō and nue demons. It had been running and hiding, stealing food from wherever he could find it while trying to stay one step ahead of the shinigami. That had all come crashing down when Zaraki had picked up his trail.

Renji wondered sometimes if they'd sent the 11th's lieutenant out specifically for him. Unlikely, but even the possibility brought a little burst of pride. Zaraki's reputation as a strong fighter was totally deserved.

A cut-off wet scream signalled the end of the first bout as Madarame put the losing fighter out of his misery. Ayasegawa finished off the winner with his usual flare and the pieces were tossed out of the ring ready for part two. That finished exactly the same way as the first, which meant the chibi was up.

Renji watched as Zaraki leaned into the crowd of terrified prisoners and hauled the little guy to the front. Even experiencing it at one step removed, he still shivered as the huge lieutenant loomed over his younger self. He couldn't blame baby-Renji for almost falling over from fear. If nothing else, Zaraki's monstrous reiatsu was enough to put the fear of hell into anyone with half a brain. The guy exuded killing intent like some kind of murderous sweat stink.

Out in the ring, Kira was waiting. A younger, oddly more determined looking Kira than the one Renji was familiar with these days. His grip on the asauchi was solid and professional, and the jut of his jaw said he was all kinds of ready to survive this fight. 

He was a noble, Renji knew that now. Stolen or sold or something as a kid, but an old enough one that he'd had a chance to learn the basics of sword-fighting from someone who knew what they were doing, and some things you never forgot. When baby-Renji staggered out into the ring to face him, it quickly became obvious that they were in different leagues. Kira's moves were technically excellent, if a bit rusty from lack of use, whereas Renji was struggling to even hold the sword correctly. 

Zabimaru was trying to help. The nue, now as solid as Renji was himself, had wrapped itself around the chibi's back, its arms alongside the kid's to guide and direct. It helped, some. Without the quick reactions and strength that Zabimaru was instilling in those stick-thin arms, baby-Renji would have been dead ten times over. Even so, as Renji watched, heart in his mouth, Kira's attacks came closer and closer to killing his younger self. The kid got in a few lucky hits, sure, but even with Zabimaru's support, nothing was going to be good enough to turn this fight around. 

They should be calling out shikai by now; Renji was sure they had done by this point originally. Not this time. This time, it wasn't happening. There never seemed to be a chance. And each time it looked like there might be, and the nue began to fade back to its ghostly form, Kira pulled some move that baby-Renji couldn't deal with alone, and Zabimaru became solid again, its hands supporting the kid's as he blocked and parried for his life.

Shikai wasn't happening because Zabimaru couldn't help baby-Renji and be in the asauchi at the same time.

Now Renji knew what he was here to do. He dove into the ring, fetching up behind his younger self and, with a deep breath, kind of elbowed Zabimaru aside. For a second it looked like the nue would refuse to go, the baboon snarling and the snake tail readying to strike, and then their eyes met. Understanding bloomed behind feral yellow and the nue stepped aside. In Renji's arms, his younger self froze as Kira lunged towards him, and then screamed at the top of his voice, "Howl, Zabimaru!"

The nue vanished, reiatsu boiled from Renji and from the kid in his arms and the asauchi shifted. Toothed segments sprang from the blade which was suddenly wider and thicker than before. Heavier too. The chibi's arms buckled under the weight but Renji held him strong, blocking Kira's blow and turning the blade to stun his friend when his younger self would have killed him in sheer panic.

And then it was over. The shinigami rushed in, and Renji stepped back, watching again as the kid was swept up and carried away. Only this time he got to see everything else he'd missed. Like Unohana-taichō going over to Kira and preventing Madarame's killing blow. The way Kira had thrown himself at her feet and the tears that had followed.

Renji looked away, feeling uncomfortably voyeuristic, and found himself looking at yet another familiar figure. Byakuya; which shouldn't have come as a surprise, and yet somehow did. Renji had half forgotten that this was where he'd first given his oath to serve his captain. 

Like everyone else in this world of the past, this Byakuya looked younger than the current version. Some things never changed though. His face was its usual blank mask and the kenseiken glowed bone-white against ebon hair. He stood a little way from everyone else, haori shifting slightly in the breeze, staring at the group of shinigami around baby-Renji. 

Or, Renji thought with a frown trying to puzzle out Byakuya's sight line, at the kid himself?

What had Byakuya been looking for that day at the proving grounds? It was a question Renji had only pondered since Ichigo came on the scene and Renji had actually developed the gumption to question his relationship with Byakuya. But maybe this was his chance to find out. 

Byakuya was definitely looking at the kid, his eyes had hardly strayed from their point of focus. So, what was he seeing when he looked at the boy Renji had been? A servant, a protege, a lover? 

Renji squinted at himself, dirty and skinny with sticky-up hair and sunburned skin. He wasn't exactly an attractive kid, so he didn't think it was a lover that Byakuya was looking for, unless he had some very specific tastes that Renji wasn't privy to, and after half a century with a guy, you'd think that was the kind of thing that got found out.

A servant was the most logical, given Renji's lowly start. Though, if he'd wanted one of those, there had to have been a ton of well-trained first generationers in Seireitei that would've fit the bill better. 

But to see Renji as a protege suggested a level of forward thinking that Renji hadn't really credited Byakuya with. Not because he wasn't a damn good strategist, because he was. He was a noble, a clan-head and a Gotei captain, and you didn't get to keep that kind of rank unless you could plan your way around some pretty nifty opposition. It was just that, having that kind of consideration go into him, personally, was kind of… intimidating, in all honesty. What if he'd flunked out? What if all that potential had turned into nothing?

Renji was the first to admit that he'd had the power. Raw and undirected, sure, but it had been there. Hirako and Kurotsuchi had known that too, as they were just about to prove. Hirako was already there in the crowd arguing with Zaraki, and Kurotsuchi was just arriving. Pretty soon they'd escalate into a full blown row.

Distracted from his Byakuya-watching, Renji shivered as they kicked off, recalling the fight that followed. It wasn't any nicer to witness from the outside either. Reiatsu boiled around the two captains as they snarled at each other, baby-Renji trapped between them like a pig on a spit. The kid's face was alternately terrified and full of pain as blood dripped from his injured arm, now clamped in Hirako's hand. 

They'd let him go soon, Renji knew, but it wasn't until they actually did that his breath escaped a huge tensed up whoosh. Baby-Renji, the second he was released, ducked and ran, smack bang into Byakuya. 

Renji hadn't noticed it at the time, but now he did: Byakuya saw baby-Renji coming a mile off, could easily have got out of his way, and didn't. Instead he'd taken the full brunt of Renji's panicked charge, and then dismissed him as uninteresting. As an ice-breaker, it was a clever move. It brought the kid up short and made him look at Byakuya rather than run from him. 

Renji remembered now how it had felt, meeting this guy for the first time, the differences he'd sensed between Byakuya, all poise and cool calm, and the Hirako/Kurotsuchi duo still bickering behind him. This man, Renji's instincts had said, was above all that. He was above everything. And that was something new and different in Renji's world. In his experience, mostly people shouted their greatness from the rooftops, even when they were an ass who couldn't even stop a kid from filching their smoked fish. 

This man could have the whole world at his feet, and yet he'd never bother saying anything because that was where the world ought to be.

And he'd managed to convey all that by having the shittiest attitude ever.

"Damn," Renji muttered, impressed despite himself as Byakuya turned away from the chibi, forcing the kid to follow and engage. Testing him too, Renji guessed. All of it had been a test, a probing at Renji's soul to see how broken or twisted he'd become like strays in Rukongai often did. For someone inclined to murder, that turned back was a perfect target. Baby-Renji had ignored the opening and handed the guy his sword instead; two-handed, like an offering or a gift. What an idiot. He really hadn't had a clue.

On the other hand, given that the choices had been Hirako's stable of pit fighters or a dissection trolley at the 12th, maybe Byakuya hadn't been so bad.

As baby-Renji handed over his sword, some of the kid's reiatsu went with it, crimson trailing tails curling around the new zanpakutō and around Byakuya's hands. White reiatsu rose to meet it, the colours mingling until it was impossible to tell them apart, and when Byakuya received Renji's oath and returned the sword, some of that reiatsu went too, stretching into a thin thread that bound the blade and the hand that held it, firmly to Byakuya's hand. 

Bound Zabimaru, Renji's zanpakutō and Renji's soul to Byakuya.

"Oh," Renji said, as so very many things fell into place.

*

It was getting on for five and Renji still wasn't back. Byakuya jittered around the bar polishing the tables, the effects of the tablet he'd taken earlier still in full swing. The 'crash' from the first one had eventually arrived yesterday around lunchtime, but it was no worse than a bad cold and nothing Byakuya wasn't capable of working through. It had left him heavy-limbed and exhausted though, so he'd not thought twice before asking Mendori for another pill this morning to give his energy levels another boost.

He desperately wanted to sit jinzen again tonight. Last night had been worse than useless. He'd not been able to focus and, when he'd finally struggled through into his inner world, the emptiness of it had left him feeling so depressed that he hadn't even tried to move the bones. It would be different now, he knew, but if Renji didn't make it home in time, Byakuya would have no choice but to do door duty!

"Damn it!" a loud curse came from the other end of the dance floor. Byakuya looked up from the table he was cleaning. The only part of Nic visible over the sound system was the top of his orange tousled head. So very much like Ichigo's in colour. Byakuya should tell him some time.

"Problem?" Mendori asked. He was in his usual place, leaning back against the bar with his sleeves rolled up and a cigarette in his mouth. Waiting for Akio-chan to come down, Byakuya assumed. She was up in the office meeting with a young woman who'd arrived earlier toting a large pink suitcase with sparkles.

Nic pushed himself to his feet, splitting a glare between his boss and the technology. "Damn thing won't work," he said, kicking something that made a scraping sound. "I think the drive's had it."

"It was working all right last night," Mendori replied flatly, turning to Lee and raising his finger. Lee, who was playing barman this evening, there was probably a rota of some kind since it had been one of the others yesterday, immediately scrambled to grab a bottle from under the bar.

"That was then, this is now. Hey, you been fiddling with any of this stuff?" Nic asked and it took Byakuya a moment to realise he was the one being spoken to. 

He tried to respond but found his chance stolen by Lee. "Won't be 'im," Lee said, "Even when he's spinning, he's a proper little woman. Got the hots for the cleaning not the electronics, ain't ya princess?" As he spoke, he splashed some amber coloured drink into a short glass and pushed it towards Mendori. Whisky, perhaps. It was impossible to tell from this distance, though the scent would give it away. Would it be considered impolite to go around sniffing people's drinks? Probably. Byakuya turned back to his cleaning.

"Got a good voice though," Lee continued. "Ya ever need someone to do a set, get 'im on it."

"Clients'd like that. Already had a few of them asking where he was," Mendori said somewhere in the background.

"Cheap too," Lee laughed. "You can pay him in pills."

Byakuya wasn't really listening. There were streaks on the fake-wood table top. He scrubbed at them, finding the back and forth movement of the cloth comforting somehow. 

"Oi! Princess!" 

The yell was followed up by something hitting Byakuya in the back of the head. A beer mat, he discovered as he turned to see what it was. The writing was a dark six on a white background, and memories of his division for a second threatened to overwhelm everything else. Then Mendori said, "I told ya to go and get changed. That man of yours ain't back, so yer on the door."

Byakuya glanced around at the faces of the men in the bar. For a fleeting moment they seemed alien, like monsters from his worst nightmares, and then the illusion was gone, and they were just thugs and pretty boys again. Dipping his head, he rushed to the stairs, and refused to worry about Renji's late return. Renji was his own man now. It wasn't Byakuya's place to worry about him.

*

_You really surprised that's how it works?_

Was he? Renji floated in a sea of nothingness and pondered the question. 

He knew that he felt all torn up from the revelation. Confused, which made it hard to be honest, but he did his best not to lie since he'd only be lying to himself, and that was stupid. 

_I don't know,_ he said after a moment or two. _I guess… I kind of assumed I was in love with the guy. Finding out it was just because he owns part of my soul makes it feel… like he cheated somehow. Like_ I _was cheated._

_Ssentimental ssilliness,_ came an unmistakable hiss next to his ear. 

Renji tried not to flinch, knowing that was probably the effect snake-tail was going for. Instead he snapped defensively, _Falling in love isn't sentimental!_ Though there was no heat to it. Not really. _I just…_ The words died away. Or rather they'd never been there to begin with. Renji didn't know what he thought, except that it had hurt to see his life reduced to a mingling of reiatsu far beyond his control.

He'd thought there'd been a choice. 

_You didn't chose the binding. Does that mean you couldn't have chosen the man?_

Falling in love with Byakuya had been a slow process, that was for sure. To start with, he'd hated the guy. They'd clashed so many times in those first few months, it'd felt to Renji like his ass would never stop hurting. 

That brought a smile to his face. Normally when he thought of someone getting spanked these days, it wasn't himself, it was Ichigo. The kid's backside had been as red as a ripe tomato by the time Byakuya had done with him, just like Renji's had been in the beginning. 

And then Byakuya had thrown him away, tossed Renji out like the trash he was to sink or swim amongst the dregs of the division. 

Or had he.

Looked at from this future perspective, there was a case similar to Renji's. A kid just as wilful and headstrong, and when Ichigo had proved too much for Byakuya to handle, Byakuya had given him to Renji. So maybe Byakuya done the same thing with Renji himself?

Bōgashima, the old soldier Renji had ended up drudging for, had been hard, but thorough and professional. He'd also had the perfect rock-solid personality that Renji had needed to throw himself against to get all his pent up anger and frustration out of his system. It had been agony at the time, but he'd come out the other end a better person, and an excellent soldier.

Then he'd gone back up to the Kuchiki estate to find everything there had changed. Byakuya had changed. Okay, he was still short-tempered and a lousy teacher, but he let Renji train alongside him and had dropped some solid advice about how to deal with different kinds of enemies. He'd also shown Renji how to sit jinzen properly, though he'd gotten all huffy when Renji had asked the wrong questions. Pretty much the same ones Ichigo had asked actually, about inner worlds and what they meant. 

The turning point had been when Renji was finally trusted to guard Byakuya's back at night. Koji had been the name in the frame before that, along with a couple of the regular Kuchiki bodyguards. When Renji took over, they were sent back to the main house leaving him and Koji to take responsibility. Renji had been nervous. By then he knew just how much trust was being placed in him. 

During sleep was about the only time a Gotei captain was truly vulnerable. And during sex, though that hadn't really been on Renji's radar. Not on anything more than a casual basis anyway, until he'd started spending the night in Byakuya's bedroom, and had finally seen the man sleeping. That had been a revelation. The ice-cold armour melted away leaving a young man that Renji could only see as beautiful. And that wasn't all, because Byakuya dreamed. Not nice dreams either. More like nightmares going by Byakuya's desperate mutterings and wrenching startled cries, full of the kind of blood and terror that Renji had thought only existed in Rukongai, and definitely not in the lives of Seireitei nobility. 

He'd asked Koji about them, and got a cold-shoulder in response. It wasn't his business. That was for the master to speak about, if he wanted. Byakuya never had, but Renji had done his best to help anyway. The next time one of the nightmares struck, Renji had climbed into bed with his captain and held him in his arms, trying to soothe him with voice and presence. 

Renji had kind of expected to be shrugged off, but Byakuya hadn't. He'd settled almost immediately, his breathing calming and deepening, his tight terrified body language stretching back into languid sleep. Luck, Renji had thought. Coincidence. And then Byakuya had murmured his name, "Renji," so quiet and real that Renji's heart had leapt into his throat and by the time he'd swallowed it back down again, it was too late. He'd fallen hard and fast. The man who owned him body and soul now owned his heart as well. 

And it had been Renji's choice, as far as anyone ever chose to fall in love.

_See,_ the baboon rumbled. _Told you it doesn't have to be either or._

_Sstill ssentimental,_ snake-tail hissed. _He reducess you._

_But he makes us stronger too,_ Renji replied, feeling his newfound insight slip comfortably into place alongside the other revelations. _So I embrace it. I'll be a sentimental fool,_ he added, and opened his eyes onto the clear fathomless blue skies of his inner world. 

A terrified bellow suddenly filled the air. 

Renji leapt to his feet. That was Zabimaru, he'd know that voice anywhere. 

Sand stretched in all directions, empty and uncompromising. There was no sign of the nue. "Zabi!" Renji called.

The bellow came again, and this time Renji was able to pinpoint a direction. He started off towards it at a dead run, bare feet scuffing over the sand, leaving little dusty plumes in his wake. Something moving on his head distracted him for a moment, until he remembered it was his top-knot because of course his hair was long again now he was back in this place. 

Another bellow from Zabimaru got him back on track and now he could see something. It looked like a couple of branches sticking out of the ground. Renji sprinted towards them, realising as he ran what he was seeing. Snake-tail and one of the baboon's arms protruding from the sand.

Buried?

No, worse. Renji skidded to a halt, dropping to the ground and flattening himself over the deep dark pit. Black bars the thickness of his arms and less than a foot apart stretched across it from side to side, trapping Zabimaru below.

"Damn it!" Renji cried, prying at the bars until his hands stung and creaked from the force. Zabimaru was trying too, the powerful muscles in the baboon's upper arms bulging with effort, the snakes coils like liquid power. 

Nothing. The bars never even flexed.

Renji collapsed over them, sobbing with frustration and rage. This shouldn't be happening! They'd fixed the shikai thing, he was back in his inner world, why was Zabimaru still trapped?

The soft scales of the snake's underbelly caressed the inside of Renji's arm as if to comfort him, its tongue a gentle flickering touch on the back of his wrist. Renji turned his hand palm up, and felt a calloused paw slide into it. He squeezed. The baboon squeezed back. Only then did Renji open his eyes. The nue was hanging off the bars, ten feet above the bottom of the pit. Its twin gazes level and serious. 

"We've overcome worse," the baboon said, "This is the last of the seal. We'll work on breaking it together."

That was way more reassuring than Renji could muster at the moment, but he did manage to summon up half a smile. "Yeah, there ain't nothing we can't sort out if we face it together."

The baboon's eyebrows flicked but it was snake-tail that answered, "Sso, take yourself outside and ssummon us through your sword. We will sstart the fight there."

*

Byakuya couldn't help being surprised by how many of the young women entering the club tonight smiled at him. He tried smiling back, but that just seemed to make them grab their friends and hurry inside, so perhaps that hadn't been the right thing to do after all. It was hard not to though. Standing outside the club was boring and at least exchanging a smile was something he could do that wasn't pacing back and forth across the entranceway.

Bouncing on his toes helped a little, though it did aggravate the headache that had started blooming between his eyes. Pressing his fingers against it eased the pain a little, but what he really needed was a distraction. Like being able to sit jinzen. He should tell Mendori that door duty wasn't for him tonight, he had better things to be doing.

Then again, at least being out here gave him the first chance of seeing Renji.

Not that he was worrying.

He peered up the road anyway, hoping to catch a glimpse. Where could he be? It wasn't like Renji to be late. His timekeeping was excellent. It was one of the things Byakuya treasured about him. 

"What are you doing all the way over there?"

It was a woman's voice calling. Byakuya spun round and found Akio-chan standing on the front step of the club, which was quite some distance away. She was right, he'd strayed from his post in his eagerness to see Renji. 

"My apologies, Akio-chan," he said, hurrying back over. "I promise you, I was still very much aware of my surroundings. No one would have been able to enter without showing me their-"

"Byakuya, what did Mendori give you?" Akio asked.

Byakuya blinked at her, partly because of the question, but also because he'd grown quite unused to hearing his name from anyone's lips except Renji's. All the others called him 'princess', and with how absent Renji had been of late, the novelty was quite startling.

"Hey!" Fingers snapped right in front of his eyes. Byakuya flinched and refocused on Akio-chan. She didn't look pleased, so he bowed and said, "Again I apologise-"

"Don't. Just… Damn it, I've told him not to feed people stuff when they're supposed to be working. It's bad enough Lee getting tweaked without you starting it as well." 

She glared at him and would, Byakuya suspected, have said more if the door hadn't opened behind her, disgorging the young woman with the large sparkling pink suitcase. She was a stunning woman with long dark hair that draped like a tail over one shoulder, drawing the eye to her most prominent assets. The dress she was wearing didn't help in that regard either, since the tight yoke top seemed to highlight her breasts until that was all Byakuya could see. It was really quite dizzying, and very attractive. 

"Unagiya-san," Akio was greeting her, smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Thanks so much for coming. I'll let you know if we need your services, okay?"

The woman, Unagiya, dipped a nervous little bow. "It's an honour to even be asked," she said, "A small company like mine normally only handles things like dog walking and finding lost items." 

Byakuya listened, spellbound as she talked. Her voice was husky with a wonderful roundness to it that was quite as attractive as the rest of her. Perhaps Renji would- but no. There was no Renji any more, and possibly never would be again. That thought made Byakuya feel desperately sad and he gave serious consideration to asking Akio-chan to order Renji to love him again, but no, that wasn't right either. There was nothing Byakuya could do but wait and hope. It was sad, but there it was.

More customers arrived. As Byakuya was checking their cards, a car turned into the street. Byakuya glanced around, squinting as the car's headlights blinded him for a brief second, and then he saw the figure jogging down the pavement behind it. Renji!

He wanted to call out, but managed to restrain himself, instead focusing on the important business of seeing the customers inside. While he was doing that, Unagiya-san said, "That's my husband. Thank you again, Akio-chan. I really appreciated your time." 

Byakuya hardly heard her, he was far more interested in finishing up so he could greet Renji properly. The women headed inside and finally Byakuya was free, though of course he couldn't leave the front of the club. Contenting himself with bouncing up and down on the spot, he watched avidly as Renji loped towards him. Such behaviour was terribly undignified, but Byakuya couldn't bring himself to care because Renji had the broadest of grins on his face, and he was smiling at Byakuya. Byakuya's own mouth curved up in response as his heart soared. It felt like new years, or a summer festival to see such an expression, not only back on Renji's face, but aimed at him specifically. 

"Hello!" he called as Renji crossed over so he was on this side of the road. 

The car with Unagiya-san on board pulled away. It was a taxi, Byakuya realised, though he spared it no more than a cursory glance, not with Renji so close. Renji took more of an interest, ducking down and frowning briefly at something inside the car before he looked back at Byakuya and his grin returned.

"Hey," he said, "Look at you! Being all doorman-y, getting chatty with the natives."

Beside them, Akio-chan snorted quietly, but didn't mention the pill Mendori had given him. Byakuya was glad. It wasn't that he didn't want Renji to know, he just didn't want him to know quite yet. He might say that Byakuya should stop taking them, and then he'd never get the bones to dance. Even the possibility of being denied that was enough to make Byakuya want to cling to Renji and beg him not to. 

Thankfully he managed to retain enough control to only stare at Renji longingly. Renji, who had turned to Akio-chan and, bowing very deeply, was apologising in the most beautiful formal language. "I am really very sorry for being late back this evening. Please accept my most humble apologies."

Akio waved a beringed hand at him. "Oh stand up, silly. Byakuya stood in for you, so it wasn't a problem this time." She pursed her lips into a mock frown, propped one hand on her hip and wagged a finger at Renji. "Just don't do it again."

"I won't, neesan," Renji replied. His grin was back, as wide and wonderful as ever, but it wasn't just aimed at him, Byakuya realised with some disappointment. Everyone was on the receiving end. "Let me nip upstairs and change then I'll be back to take over." With a quick dip and a finger-wave, Renji trotted off inside.

Akio-chan watched him go, raising a curious eyebrow at Byakuya when the door closed behind him. "He's looking very pleased with himself. Any idea what that's about?"

Byakuya did, though he wasn't sure how to explain it to Akio. He took a stab anyway. "There's a technique he's being trying to perfect in his training. It's exceedingly complicated involving many hours of meditation and practice. He actually managed to perfect it once before, however…" He flailed for a second before settling on, "a recent injury meant he had to start again from a lower point in his training and-"

"You know what," Akio-chan interrupted, her palm raised, "Tell me tomorrow when you're not spun."

He'd been talking too much again. Byakuya clamped his lips closed and nodded enthusiastically to prove he'd understood. Akio-chan simply sighed, shook her head and headed back into the club. Which meant Byakuya was alone, without even Renji spotting to keep him amused. Though at least Renji would be back down soon. That would be nice. It would be good to have company. Renji could tell him all about shikai and-

Two young women came around the corner. Byakuya greeted them warmly, inspected their membership cards, and ushered them inside.

\- maybe they could talk about other things and-

More customers. Byakuya cast a longing look at the door, wishing Renji would come out and join him, and ushered these ones in as well.

\- maybe he could relieve Byakuya for a little while, because Byakuya suddenly and rather desperately needed to pee!

He was hopping from foot to foot by the time Renji reappeared and Byakuya hardly even waited for him to come through the door before excusing himself and shooting inside to the toilets. 

It wasn't until he was standing at the urinal that Byakuya realised he wasn't alone. Someone was in one of the cubicles. The water was running like the flush had been used, only it was going on and on and on. Then a phone rang, a cheery little tune with squeaky-voiced lyrics about ponies, that cancelled out the sound of the running water. 

"Daddy," Akio's voice whined as the tune stopped. "This is a really bad time."

A polite and considerate person would have left rather than eavesdrop. Byakuya was neither, not when there was a source of potential information right under his nose. He'd learnt the skill early and used it remorselessly in his ongoing battle of survival against his uncle. The fact that he was still alive to tell the tale proved he was good at it.

Silently, he stepped closer to the cubicle, making sure to stay far enough away to avoid getting spotted under the door.

"The toilet if you must know," Akio-chan was saying. She paused then, "Daddy! That's revolting. I hate you!" Another pause. "Yes, yes, it went fine. The machine gave a reading." Pause. "No, I don't know what it was. It's in the office and I'm not." "Definitely over fifty." "Unagiya Ikumi." "Yes, I know that's a woman's name. That's because she's a woman!" "No, you didn't say men only, you just said people who could-" "Do you know how many people there are who can still operate-" "No, and I'll tell you why. Because they're all dead or working for important companies and someone would miss them." "They're not just computer geeks, daddy, they're specialists-"

Feet clad in pink slippers appeared on the cubicle floor. She was finishing up.

Byakuya backed up towards the door, straining his ears to hear the rest of the conversation. 

"Yes, she does. She worked there for years before she got married." "I don't know, some foreigner." "See, I told you. Really convenient. You can pin it all on him." "Okay, yes. See you soon. Bye bye!"

As she hung up, Akio flushed the toilet. Byakuya took advantage, hauling the door open and banging it shut again loudly. By the time Akio came out of the cubicle, he was back at the urinal, and she hurried politely past without saying a word. 

Byakuya let her get well clear before heading back outside himself. He needed to speak to Renji, urgently. If he'd understood that conversation correctly then Akio was helping her father identify people for Iba's army and Unagiya-san had just been scouted.

*

That had been Zommari in the taxi, Renji was sure. There couldn't be that many drivers who looked like him in Tokyo, plus the sign on the top of the car had been the same. Thinking about it, hadn't they promised to get in touch with the guy, buy him drink or something? That hadn't happened, too many other things going on. By now it probably didn't matter and, considering who they were hanging with these days, Zommari was better off out of it.

Anyway, it wasn't like they had time for a social life. Renji for definite had better things to be doing.

Excitement bubbled up inside him and his face tugged into a grin again as he bounced on his heels. He couldn't help it. It had just felt so damn good to feel the weight of Zabimaru's shikai in his hands again, to practice with it. To feel the stretch and burn in his own muscles as the whipblade created the kinds of torsion in his body nothing else ever did. 

Sure Zabimaru was still trapped, but after giving it some serious thought, Renji reckoned that was probably a bankai thing, which meant now he had another goal to aim for. And he'd get there too. Nothing was gonna stop him now. 

A small group of women came round the corner of the club. Renji stepped forward, about to give them the usual polite welcome, when he realised who one of them was. "Hanna-san," he said, adding an extra level of formal to his bow. 

"Renji," she replied, the first time she'd actually spoken to him since the incident. Progress or a backward step? The latter definitely, he thought, as she cornered him against the door like she had that first night. It had been kind of convenient to be ignored.

"Still in a relationship," he said, hands high and visible, just in case someone tried accusing him of molesting the boss's daughter, 'cause yeah that would go well. 

"But a little bird told me that you like women as well."

Mendori, that bastard. "Liking ain't the same thing as touching. And right now I'm a one man guy." 

Renji knew he'd messed up the moment the words left his lips. Hanna's eyes lit up and she pressed closer. "If you weren't always so choosy, there's nothing stopping you from changing your mind again, is there."

"Except for Byakuya," Renji replied. "Look, I dunno how much clearer I can make this, lady. I ain't interested. I ain't never gonna be interested. The only way you're gonna get in my pants is by tying me down and ripping them off, got it?"

She backed off immediately, but not in the way Renji had been hoping. Talking like that, he'd kind of being trying to embarrass her into leaving him alone. Instead, her face took on a calculating cast. Renji's heart sank. He knew that look. He'd seen it before so many damn times. That was the expression of someone who'd seen a challenge and decided to meet it. 

Crap. The last thing he needed was Kutsuzawa Hanna on his case.

"Please," he said, trying a different tack. "I'm just trying to do my job. Don't screw this up for me. I apologised after the last time and-"

The door behind him pushed open and, with the worst timing ever, Byakuya reappeared. He looked from Renji to Hanna and back again before saying to Hanna, "If Renji has done something to upset you, please allow me to face the punishment. It would be unfair for Renji to do so again when it was my fault the last time."

"You?" Hanna said with a sneer and a disgusted look. "I wouldn't touch you with someone else's." And with that she stalked off inside.

Renji watched her go with a mixture of relief and worry. It was good that this little encounter was over, but no way was that gonna be the last of them. She was gunning for them now.

"The young lady who was getting into the taxi when you arrived," Byakuya said suddenly and absolutely out of blue. "She's been identified as one of those who will be useful to the Iba. I believe Kutsuzawa is planning to have her killed. We need to stop it."

"What?" Renji said, his mind still elsewhere. On Hanna mainly and how much shit she could stir up for them.

"Unagiya-san, the woman who was-"

"Yeah, I got that part. I just don't see what it's got to do with us." The last thing they needed was to start rocking the boat in some other direction. 

"A human woman is about to be killed when she's done nothing to deserve it," Byakuya began, but Renji wasn't having any of that tonight. 

"No," he said, annoyance brewing up into genuine anger. "If Iba's interested, it's because she's got spiritual power. A month ago, you'd have killed her yourself, so you don't get to play the poor little innocent card, not now. Not when that…" he pointed towards the club and Hanna, his teeth clamping shut on some of the nastier words he wanted to use, "person, who just so happens to be the boss's daughter, keeps trying to get her claws into me! If she gets us fired, what the fuck do you think's gonna happen? We won't have anywhere to live, any money to buy food. So, no. I'm sorry about the woman, but she ain't our problem. We look after ourselves first, got it?"

Byakuya stood as unmoving as a statue through the tirade, gaze averted and hands at his sides. When Renji finished, he nodded, apparently accepting that what Renji wanted went. Which was good. Renji didn't want another fight on his hands, not when he'd been in such a fantastic mood earlier. It also meant he needed to be the bigger man and compromise a bit.

"We can keep our eyes and ears open," he said, toning his voice back to soothing. "We should be doing that anyway. If they're starting to send people through, then the Iba must be getting ready to move. We need to be ready too." He grinned. "Guess it's a good job I got shikai back, eh?"

Grey eyes immediately rose, and Renji saw his excitement reflected back at him. "Truly?" Byakuya asked.

"Really truly," Renji replied, his grin getting bigger. "But I'm guessing you already knew." Byakuya would have to, wouldn't he, if Zabimaru partly belonged to him?

A slight flush coloured the tops of Byakuya's cheeks. "I…suspected," he admitted. "Congratulations. I'm very happy for you and Zabimaru."

Renji chuckled and nudged him. "Make it sound like we're getting married, not training up again." He paused, wondering if he should say something else about what else he'd discovered. But what was the point, and it might just make things awkward with Senbonzakura still not around. "How's it going with you?" he asked instead. "Jinzen working?"

Byakuya inclined his head slightly. "After a fashion. In fact, if you don't mind, I'd like to go and try again now."

"Sure," Renji replied with a shrug, though he felt a little hurt. He kind of wanted to share his joy at regaining shikai with Byakuya. Even if they couldn't have a drink to celebrate, they could at least have stayed out here together and chatted. But that was just being selfish. 

Some of what he was feeling must have bled through into his tone because Byakuya gave him a questioning look. Renji forced himself to nod and smile. "You go on in. No reason for both of us to stand out here like lemons."

"If you're sure," Byakuya said, that hesitance creeping back in his voice. Because, of course, Renji had forgotten, it was difficult for Byakuya to be around him.

"Absolutely positive," he said, just as a taxi pulled up and disgorged a chattering group of women. He stepped forward to deal with them, and when he turned back, Byakuya was gone.


	15. Hold my Flower...

Having got new years out of the way, the tension started to ramp up. Ichigo paced his cell, frustration making it impossible for him to sit for even one more moment. Like he'd told Yoruichi, practising in his inner world was fine up to a point, but he'd reached it. He needed to train properly, with his swords and against decent opposition. 

She'd stared at him, long and hard, before saying she'd see what she could do. That had been yesterday. Last night had been a bear.

The door at the end of the corridor slammed. Ichigo practically flew to the cell door and when Yoruichi came around the corner, he was there to meet her, half hanging through the bars.

"Well?" he demanded, searching her from head to toe. She was wearing a pale cream kimono with her black ninja uniform underneath and both her hands were empty, but that didn't mean anything. This was Yoruichi. She could be carrying his zanpakutō anywhere. Scary thought.

She stopped just out of reached and smirked at him. "Looking for something, Ichi-kun?" she asked.

Ichigo managed to contain his snarl and just scowled instead. Her laughter rolled out warm and hearty. "Ah, I'll not keep you in suspense any longer," she said, and tugged Zangetsu out from behind her back. Not caring what she might think, Ichigo made grabby hands at her, and damn nearly purred when she handed the sword over.

"Where's the tanto?" he asked, drawing the katana and checking the blade for damage. It was perfect.

"Still under lock and key," Yoruichi replied. "I could only get permission for your zanpakutō." 

"Woah, hang on a minute," Ichigo said, "the tanto is my zanpakutō. Both of them are."

Frowning, Yoruichi shook her head. "Not according to the records it isn't."

Ichigo hadn't even known there were records. He stared at her open-mouthed. "But-"

"Shiba Ichigo, captain, 6th division. Zanpakutō: Zangetsu, melee type. When sealed, takes the form of a katana with the Shiba mon water-mark," Yoruichi recited, gesturing to the sword in Ichigo's hands. "There's no mention of a second blade. Sorry."

That sounded final. Ichigo pulled Zangetsu back into the cell with him, thinking hard. He was down the tanto. Did that actually matter? It wasn't like he was going to be able to use bankai anyway, and most of the training he'd done over the past year had been with only one sword. In a lot of ways he might be better off without it.

 _Ossan?_ he called, the question implicit in the asking.

 _Without the blade, I will be limited in my ability to help you,_ the Quincy spirit replied. _However, taking such a path would probably be unwise anyway considering our audience._

Good point. There wasn't much point trying to prove he wasn't a dangerous Quincy if the first thing he did when he got in trouble was use Quincy powers. _Then I guess we'll have to manage without,_ Ichigo said. 

_Just 'The King and I'!_ Zangetsu chortled.

Ichigo smirked and shot back, "I guess that makes you the girl in this relationship."

"Excuse me?" Yoruichi said. She was still at the door, frowning at him now. 

Tempering his smirk into a grin, Ichigo lifted Zangetsu. "Just a slight disagreement with my sword."

"I…see," Yoruichi said, sounding like she didn't see at all. Maybe she didn't. Despite her having been a captain, Ichigo had never seen her carrying her own zanpakutō. But before he could ask any questions, Yoruichi said, "So, you want out of here for a few hours, or what?"

"Now?" Ichigo asked, making absolutely no attempt to conceal his excitement. 

"Yeah, right now. Though, the collar stays, I'm afraid. For some reason they think you're a flight risk."

'They' had to be the joint captains of the Gotei. "I bet Kyōraku was totally pissed when you brought this up."

Yoruichi's grin turned wicked. "He was livid," she said, standing aside to let the guard unlock the door. "More so when your practice opponent was revealed. He had some crazy idea it should be Yadōmaru." 

Ichigo stepped out of his cell, feeling lighter than he had done in days just for crossing the threshold. "She's pretty good, so I heard," he said, following Yoruichi as she set off down the corridor. 

"Very," Yoruichi replied glancing back over her shoulder. "But she's not got Zaraki's brute power. There's only one ranking Gotei officer who can fight at that level."

She opened the door to the main corridor, and Ichigo almost took a step back because, hunkered down waiting for them on the other side was Hisagi, black and gold eyes glowing like flames in the dim light. As always when he saw the partly hollowfied shinigami, Ichigo felt that odd mix of revulsion and attraction. 

_That's 'cause he's tasty. And ya know it,_ Zangetsu growl/purred deep inside Ichigo's head. 

Ichigo ignored him and eyed Hisagi warily as he rose to his feet. He didn't look on the verge of attacking, and the last time they'd met, back at Tōsen's house, he'd actually been kind of sweet, in an odd silent way. Not to mention, Ichigo had a hollow inside himself now, so he was hardly in a position to throw stones.

"He's my training partner?" Ichigo asked.

"You got a problem with that?" Yoruichi shot back, nodding to Hisagi and continuing on past him down the stairs.

"No," Ichigo said, jogging after Yoruichi and hearing Hisagi bound into step behind him. "I just need to know if he was Hirako's idea." 

"Actually, it was Tōsen's," Yoruichi said as they reached the main doors.

The guards opened them, blinding Ichigo temporarily with bright winter sun. He raised a shading hand and blinked tears from his eyes. If Hisagi came from Tōsen then Ichigo wasn't about to complain. They hadn't exactly parted on good terms, but Ichigo didn't think they'd been assassination-attempt bad. Now, if only the guy didn't keep such lousy company.

Ichigo shivered. The air out here was bitterly cold compared to inside the Senzaikyū. He gestured down at his lightweight white yukata and pointed out to Yoruichi, "I'm going to freeze to death if you make me fight out there in this get up." Reiatsu was great and all, but it only kept you warm if you could keep pumping it out. With the collar on, that wasn't going to work.

"Oh ye of little faith," Yoruichi replied, grabbing his arm and stepping them into shunpo. Hisagi leapt beside them, one step, two, then over the side of the hill. For a second, Ichigo thought he knew exactly where they were heading and prepared to dig his heels in, because no way was he going back there without putting up a fight. Then Yoruichi dropped them below the level of Urahara's secret training room and set off towards the Shihōin estate.

*

"Gods damn it!" Ichigo cursed an hour or so later, spitting blood onto the beautiful wooden floor of the dojo. It'd stain, but right now Ichigo didn't care. He was more interested in staying alive.

The hairs on the back of his neck stirred, and he hit the ground just as Hisagi's blade whistled through where his head would have been. "That's cheating!" he bellowed, scrambling for Zangetsu, which had been spun from his grip two moves ago when Hisagi had used shunpo, or whatever the hollow equivalent was, to totally blindside him.

"No such thing against Zaraki!" Yoruichi carolled happily as Ichigo's hand closed around the hilt of his zanpakutō.

Ichigo spared her a quick glare before levelling Zangetsu and taking his stance. There was no sign of Hisagi but he was out there somewhere, maybe up in the rafters with Yoruichi. Sweat trickled down Ichigo's back, created a line of cold hot chills. Yoruichi had been right about him not freezing in his lightweight clothing, though it had more to do with the furiousness of the sparring session than any warmth in the vast dojo. Hisagi was fast, Ichigo had known that, but with Ichigo's own speed hampered by the collar, the difference between them was a yawning chasm. 

The slightest squeak of bare foot sliding on wood told Ichigo he was coming again. The right! - every instinct cried. Instead of blocking, Ichigo thrust right and had the pleasure of seeing Hisagi hitting the deck as he slid beneath Ichigo's blade. Then he was coming up again, sword in the lead and heading straight for Ichigo's face. Ichigo leaned back to avoid losing his nose, and realised his mistake even as he did it. A simple nudge to the backs of his knees from a well-hooked leg and Ichigo was toppling backwards, flat on his ass.

If Byakuya had seen it, he'd have given Ichigo such a disappointed face. So would Dad, though that would probably have also involved an unsympathetic punch to the head. The first rule of any type of fighting: never let your opponent get you off-balance. Ichigo should know better. But it was hard combating Hisagi's speed when his own was so constrained. With reiatsu, he'd have ducked out of that attack with a step of shunpo. 

As his shoulders hit the ground, Ichigo rolled, coming up with both feet to catch Hisagi's next attack, which was bound to be coming. His feet hit something square on, enough to give him a good push off to get upright again. Hisagi was skidding backwards, on his ass now, and not far off hitting the far wall. Ichigo sprinted towards him, sword levelled and a kiai on his lips.

Hisagi met him halfway, his body seeming to stretch out of all proportion as he accelerated, his grin wide and excited. Like his own hollow, Ichigo thought as their blades clashed. Steel shrieked as Ichigo angled his sword trying to deflect at least some of that power. He couldn't contain it all, no one could have. And definitely not without reiatsu.

His knees creaked and bent, so did his elbows. Hisagi kept coming, pressing closer, his body exuding heat like a furnace. Between them, their blades sang from the force, every pulse and tremor of muscle a shared experience, a language specific to that moment, unknowable to anyone who wasn't them. Strength, Ichigo read. Power. Ambition, constancy, drive, determination, and something else, something he couldn't quite get a handle on. 

Sweat stung his eyes. He blinked them clear. Black and gold met Ichigo's for a split second, and that's when he saw it; hidden beneath all those other emotions was one more. 

Fear.

If he hadn't spent half this session picking himself back up off the floor, Ichigo might have flinched. Instead, the insight inspired him. Letting Zangetsu drop, he rotated his wrist, releasing the hilt with one hand. Both swords ended up pointing at the floor and Hisagi pitched forwards momentarily off-balance. Ichigo caught him, hand grabbing the smooth heated skin of Hisagi's nape, and dragged them closer together. It was a clash of heads more than anything, not a head-butt but not exactly gentle either. 

Scar tissue pressed rough against Ichigo's forehead and hot breath skated across his face as black and gold eyes tried to avoid making contact. He was exactly the same height as Byakuya, Ichigo realised suddenly, and the thought made something shoot through him, some frisson of want. His grip tightened, turning into a shake, and he felt Hisagi relax into it with a heavy sigh, his whole body suddenly pliant. 

That was… unexpected. 

And wow did the guy smell good.

Inside him, Zangetsu stirred and Ichigo got the distinct sense that the zanpakutō spirit was just as fascinated by this turn as Ichigo was. Then, before Ichigo could gather himself enough to do anything with any of it, Hisagi was gone, wrenching himself out of Ichigo's hand and shunpo'ing backwards across the dojo. But not a fast escape, and it wasn't followed up by the kind of vicious attack that had come in earlier. If anything, the look he was giving Ichigo was wary, like a stray cat that had accidentally purred when you petted it. 

Tōsen said that Hisagi had been found wandering with those disfiguring injuries. What the hell had happened to him before that? 

_He's different today,_ Zangetsu murmured, then added with a hungry leer, _Tasty._

Used to that kind of comment, Ichigo ignored it, glancing up into the rafters to find Yoruichi studying them, curiosity burning in her eyes. Did she know about Hisagi's past? She definitely knew enough to trust him as Ichigo's sparring partner for this training. And she was onmitsukidō, so there couldn't be much she didn't know.

A low rumbling growl came from the other end of the dojo. Ichigo raised his sword. It was time to start fighting again.

*

The sun had risen past its zenith and was going down the other side, its rays shining in through the fusuma and casting long lengths of light and shadow across the dojo's wooden floor. Under other circumstances, Ichigo might have found the sight aesthetically pleasing. As it was, he was a bit too distracted to do more than file it away as potentially useful data, something he could maybe use to slow Hisagi down, or distract him, or something, because the bastard just would not quit!

Despite their brief moment of connection, nothing had really changed. They'd been fighting for hours. Ichigo had given up trying to win and was reduced to hanging on and hoping that Yoruichi called an end to the bout before before he a) died of blood loss or b) collapsed from total exhaustion. There wasn't a place on him that wasn't cut, bruised, strained or otherwise screaming with pain.

Unrelenting, Hisagi came in again, sword up and slashing. Arms too tired and too slow to block, Ichigo tried side-stepping, tripped over his own leaden feet and ended up down on one knee. The blade whooshed millimetres above him - it would've decapitated him if he hadn't stumbled! - and then his head whipped sideways, pain exploding above his ear. The hilt! Bastard had caught him with the hilt.

Choking back a gasp, Ichigo tried to scramble clear, fingers scrabbling against boards, toes sliding through sweat and worse. But Hisagi was already on him, the blood dripping from his own wounds leaving a patter of drops in his wake as he spun past yet again, this time forcing Ichigo to bend backwards almost double to get up enough of a block so as not to lose his left arm at the shoulder. It was like fighting some kind of hollow robot. 

_Nah. Just a hollow. Like me!_ , Zangetsu crowed, then as Ichigo struggled to defend yet again, this time sliding on his back across the floor, blade flashing in front of him as Hisagi leapt and drove and dived above, the zanpakutō let out a howl, _Ya fucking loser! Let me at him, I'll show ya how it's done!_

It was tempting, so tempting. But according to Yoruichi, Zaraki was as fast and strong as Hisagi, so if the only way Ichigo could win here was by letting Zangetsu loose, then he was going to get creamed in the arena where it was sealed blades only. No, he just had to find a way to win using his own limited powers.

 _Quit freaking complaining and tell me how to win!_ he yelled back, using Hisagi's body to get enough of a push up to gain his feet again. Taking totally unfair advantage, Hisagi used Ichigo's weight as an anchor to swing himself up over Ichigo's head and try to brain him with the heel of one foot. Ichigo scrambled again, this time getting clear, and aimed for distance, a chance to get his breath back. For once Hisagi didn't follow, which was nice. Trying to deal with the guy was less like sword fighting and more like acrobatics with lethal weapons.

The style suited Hisagi, he was slight and lithe like Ichigo himself, but no way could Ichigo imagine Zaraki fighting that way. The 11th's lieutenant was huge. Fast, sure, but like a truck, and anything that big and heavy had to have momentum against him. 

But right now Zaraki was nothing but a distant dream. If Ichigo couldn't win here, he wasn't even going to get the chance to face Zaraki.

 _So?_ he demanded of the now silent Zangetsu. 

Nothing.

Seconds ticked past while Ichigo kept his gaze fixed on the pale wraith lurking in the deep shadows at the corner of the dojo. Hisagi, waiting for something. Maybe for Ichigo to fall over his own feet, it wasn't like it hadn't happened before. 

Finally Zangetsu snarled, _Like I told ya, king, it's instinct. He's got it, you ain't._

_How the hell's that supposed to help?_

_Kill or be killed._

_This isn't some kind of death match. We're sparring._

_Hollows don't spar._

Beads of sweat dribbled into Ichigo's eyes. He blinked, which did absolutely nothing to help, then, without letting go of his sword, scrubbed a forearm across his face. That cleared his vision, enough to give him a clear view of a dark and ominously empty corner.

Okay, that was about as far from good as it was possible to get. 

Sweeping the room with frantic eyes, Ichigo slid his feet slightly further apart and tightened his grip on his sword. Where the hell had Hisagi gone now? 

_He's coming._

Movement, swift and flickering just on the edge of sight grabbed Ichigo's attention. 

_You're gonna die._

Ichigo spun, blade rising, only to see an empty shitagi floating formlessly to the ground.

 _Let me at him, you loser!_

Suddenly, Ichigo's weren't the only hands on his sword. It was only for a moment, but it was a enough. Reiatsu boiled behind him. Ichigo tried to turn again, pivoting on his heel and dropping backwards to avoid the thrusting sword that just had to be heading his way - _Fucking bastard, let me kill him!_ \- saw black and gold eyes, a manically grinning face, a foot hurtling towards his chin, and then everything went black.

Ichigo fell, in and down and, as he went, something surged up past him. Something white and ravenous and screaming bloody murder.

*

"Bastard!" Ichigo screeched, bouncing up off all fours as he landed, hell bent on finding that hollowfied asshole and thrashing some sense into him.

He was back in the Senzaikyū, the one in his inner world not the one he'd left just this morning and, by the looks of the wash of white fog obscuring everything more than a few inches outside the main doors, his soul was still well under siege by Tsukishima's brain-washing thing. 

Dismissing that for now, since there wasn't a damned thing to be done except to stay away from it, he looked around for the thing he might be able to handle: Zangetsu. "Oi!" he yelled, turning in circles and glaring ferociously into the corners as if he could make the zanpakutō spirit appear just with the power of his mind, because hey, why not, this was his soul. "Where the fuck are you hiding?" He had to around here somewhere. The last time he'd taken over Ichigo's body, back when Urahara had pulled that hollowfication trick, there'd still been some of him left in Ichigo's inner world. Enough of him to fight, and ultimately defeat.

But this time, there was nothing. Not a hint or a trace.

Right. Ichigo swallowed down worries about what the hell his body might be doing to anyone out in the real world - after all he'd been fighting another hollow and Yoruichi was head of the onmitsukidō and you didn't get much more bad-ass than that - and tried a different tack.

"Ossan!" Because if anyone knew what the hell was going on, it'd be the Quincy.

 _Ichigo_ , came the sonorous reply from right above him. 

Ichigo yelped and jerked his head up so fast his neck cracked. With his usual disregard for gravity and orientation, the Quincy spirit was standing on the ceiling as though he spent his entire life living upside down. His shadowy cloak enveloped most of his tall spare frame and the lower part of his face was still obscured by cloth-wraps. These days though, the chains that used to cover him from head to toe were gone. 

At one time, Ichigo had believed them proof that the promises and oaths he'd taken were constraining his zanpakutō, but actually they'd been a manifestation of the Quincy power suppressing the true Zangetsu. At least, that's what Ichigo guessed, since they'd been destroyed when Zangetsu broke free and they'd never returned. 

"Where is he?" Ichigo demanded.

Rather than answer, Ossan looked towards the outside which, Ichigo guessed, meant the zanpakutō spirit had done a runner where Ichigo couldn't follow. Crap. That wasn't good. Hisagi and Yoruichi might be good, but Zangetsu had taken down Urahara and that wizard guy without even breaking step. If it hadn't been for some damn lucky timing, Ichigo would have come back to himself with the blood of his best friend and who the hell knew else on his hands.

"I need to find him," he said, squaring up to the door. 

Ossan was in front of him in a heartbeat. _No. Ichigo, this infestation is something you cannot fight, and if you leave the shelter of this place, I cannot protect you. It is taking all of my power to keep even this small part of you safe._

The mist outside swirled and a mass of tendrils like some kind of alien reached out for him, just waiting to drag him in. Unconsciously, Ichigo took a step back away from them. "So, what then? I just give up?" He couldn't do that. It wasn't in him to stop fighting while there was still breath in his body. 

_You must find him some other way,_ Ossan replied, as cryptic as usual. Ichigo controlled the urge to try and shake the answers out of him, which wouldn't work, and did his best to think his way through the problem. It took a while, because honestly Ichigo hardly knew where to start, but it basically boiled down to: Zangetsu was out there, wearing Ichigo's body, and Ichigo was in here, with no physical body. Effectively, they'd swapped roles. It was as if Ichigo was the zanpakutō spirit and Zangetsu was the shinigami. 

So how did Zangetsu communicate with Ichigo when he needed to?

 _In much the same way as you do yourself,_ Ossan said.

"Well, why the hell didn't you just say that!" Ichigo bitched, flomping down on the floor and crossing his legs tailor fashion. Ossan didn't answer. He didn't need to. Ichigo already knew why: if all the answers were handed to him on a plate, he'd never learn to think for himself. Still, it was annoying when he was in a hurry.

Deep focus was the key. That, Ichigo could do easily. Byakuya had been as hard a task master in this as he was with zanjutsu, determined to push Ichigo to his limits at all times. At the point it had all gone to hell, Ichigo had been sitting jinzen for days at a time in his battle to achieve bankai, focusing through any and all means of distraction his lovers could throw at him. And neither of them played fair. Coming back from his inner world to find his body with that well-fucked feeling had become almost the norm.

Right now, Ichigo suspected his body wouldn't be feeling well-fucked. Well, not in the literal sense, anyway. He just hoped he'd not done anything too nasty to anyone else.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he opened his mind and focused on Zangetsu. Making a connection to his zanpakutō was the way Ichigo entered his inner world, so it stood to reason that he could get out the same way. For a long while, there was nothing, not even a hint of another in Ichigo's awareness. He doubled down, forcing the boundaries, stretching his 'self' until finally, there! A tug from the centre of his soul to the centre of Zangetsu's, their connection, forged over all those months of training, strong and firm enough for Ichigo latch onto. 

Ichigo swarmed up it, bursting out into chaos, pain and blood. He was on the floor, Hisagi pinned below him, screaming as Ichigo's fingers burrowed into the meat of his neck and shoulder, yanking them apart. Then, with a snarl that Ichigo felt rather than heard, Zangetsu lunged forward and sank his teeth into the flesh. Hot blood spurted, coating Ichigo's tongue, thick and delicious - 

For a second, Ichigo's purely human stomach rebelled, but hollow instincts brushed revulsion aside, replacing it with ravenous hunger. Ichigo swallowed and his heart soared in vicarious triumph. This was what victory tasted like! This was taking power. This was destroying your enemies.

This was what it meant to be king!

Lifting his face from the bloody feast, he roared.

Bright white power blazed behind them. Zangetsu dodged to avoid it, but the distraction was enough. Ichigo grabbed control of the body and wrenched it back from the hollow. Gasping and retching, he lurched away from Hisagi and the incoming Yoruichi, trying to speak, trying to tell her- 

"Me!" It came out croaked, like the damn hollow had been using his voice for something it wasn't designed for. "Don't - kill -!"

She still hit, though Ichigo thought maybe not as hard as she might. Agony blazed through his body as her fist, reinforced with some kind of crackling reiatsu, slammed into his chest. If he'd been one scrap weaker, or her blow a tiny bit harder, her fist would have gone all the way through him. As it was, he rolled with it, as best as he could, feeling skin sear and bones crumple, lungs and heart rupture. Ichigo had just enough time to think, 'Shit, I need those', before he felt Zangetsu rise again. 

But this time Ichigo was ready for him.

Grabbing the zanpakutō spirit, Ichigo wrapped everything he had around him and dropped, plunging back down into his inner world. He landed as he always did, on hands and knees, but this time Zangetsu was beneath him. Furious and fighting, the zanpakutō spirit lashed out, catching Ichigo a sharp blow to the chin that snapped Ichigo's head back and made him bite his tongue, and that, more than all the shit back in the real world made Ichigo see red. His fist was clenched and he was punching that smug asshole face before he even registered making the decision to do so. 

"It's my fucking body, you shithead!" he thundered, punctuating his words with blows. "Mine!" Zangetsu had his hands up, trying to protect himself, he might even have been trying to speak, but Ichigo couldn't hear him past the roaring in his ears. They'd had a deal. Or at least Ichigo had thought they had. Only now Zangetsu had pissed all over it, and someone had gotten hurt. Okay, so it had only been Hisagi, and Yoruichi had been there to stop them, but still. Last time, it'd almost been Chad. Next time, it could be anyone. 

Again and again the blows landed. Zangetsu had given up trying to defend himself and just hung there, like he was waiting for Ichigo to get it out of his system. Like maybe he thought he deserved it.

That was enough to break through Ichigo's rage. His final punch, reiatsu charged and designed to break bone, smashed into the stone beside Zangetsu's head, cracking slabs and sending dust and sharp chips flying in all directions. Coughing, Ichigo released his hold on the zanpakutō spirit and staggered to his feet, turning his back on the whole thing before he lost his grip on his temper and started punching again. 

Behind him, Zangetsu stirred and a moment later, a pained voice said, "We gotta get back."

"Why? So you can finish your fucking meal?" Ichigo spun, furious, jabbing a finger upwards in the metaphorical direction of the dojo. "You were fucking eating Hisagi!"

"That's what hollows do," Zangetsu croaked with none of his usual bravado, his gaze downcast, like he couldn't bring himself to meet Ichigo's eyes.

Too livid to care, Ichigo spat, "Not to our friends!" Gods, he could still taste it. And the worst thing was, even though he knew it was beyond sick, it was still the best thing he'd ever had in his mouth. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Zangetsu snarled, deep in his throat, black and gold eyes lifting to lock onto Ichigo's. "You wouldn't get it, shinigami." That last was all deadly insult, a bit rich coming from a guy slumped on the floor with blood all over him. 

Fists tightening, Ichigo took a step forward. "So damn well explain, cause we sure as fuck aren't doing anything else until you do!"

 _There is no time for this,_ Ossan said, appearing between them. _Ichigo, the collar prevents my using Quincy powers to save you and without the tanto, I cannot force a way against it. If you do not allow Zangetsu to return, you will die._

"Him?" Ichigo turned betrayed eyes on the Quincy. "Why him? Why not me?"

"Because I can heal you, you fucking fool," Zangetsu groaned, lurching clumsily to one knee. Ichigo looked at him again. He was holding himself up on one arm, the other curled protectively over his chest and, though his face was a mess with blood streaming from his nose, it wasn't enough to account for the colour of the normally white shihakushō, which was scarlet down the front from neck to mid thigh. 

Yoruichi's punch. In his fury, Ichigo had forgotten. Somewhere out there, he was lying in a pool of his own blood with his heart and lungs shredded.

Even so, he shook his head. "No. Not without some kind of guarantee that you won't just heal yourself up again and go on another rampage."

Zangetsu looked up at him, expression pained. "How am I- That's-" He shook his head, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck it, I don't wanna eat anyone else. It was just him. I-"

 _Ichigo!_ The urgency in Ossan's voice shifted Ichigo's attention immediately. The Quincy's gaze was fixed on Ichigo's chest and, when Ichigo glanced down, he could see why. The collar of his shitagi was dyed bright crimson. The next moment, blood filled his mouth and pain suddenly burst through his chest. With a gurgling cry, he dropped to his knees.

 _It has to be now. There is no more time._

Still, Ichigo shook his head. He couldn't risk the hollow attacking anyone else, even if it meant dying here, in his inner world like some kind of loser.

"Come with me," gasped Zangetsu, his breathing loud and laboured. "Better even, you can have the reins, I'll just come along for the ride. That way, if you pick up on anything funny, you can just give me the boot."

Would that work? It might and, strangely, Zangetsu making the offer was enough to change Ichigo's mind. Breath exhausted, all he could do was nod, and then they were plummeting upwards and outward, following a path that Ichigo could hardly sense let alone follow. This must be how Zangetsu had taken him over. For some reason, the hollow had a bead on Ichigo's body that Ichigo himself didn't possess.

The world returned much as it had the last time, in blood and sound and agony. Everything hurt. It felt like a giant was sitting on his chest, his head was about to burst and, somewhere nearby, someone was yelling for a medic. He was dying. Desperate to do something to change this somehow, Ichigo tried to move, only to get caught in another round of squeeze everything until it popped. 

Pain flared behind his eyes, something smacked him in the shoulder and Yoruichi's voice snapped, "Quit squirming." A moment later, she added a muttered, "Damn, this is a mess. He's going to kill me."

Who was? Byakuya? Urahara? Ichigo was still trying to make sense of that when something shifted in his head and Zangetsu said, _I gotta do this, king, else we're both goners._

That was the final piece of the puzzle. Reassured that the attempted coup was properly over, Ichigo stepped aside far enough to let Zangetsu do his thing. A new kind of pain shot through him. Ichigo spasmed, back arching, and he heard Yoruichi yell, "Medic! He's seizing!" before something shot from the wound in his chest like a bung from a bottle and he could finally, wonderfully, suck in a deep breath of cool fresh air. 

Of course, with so much blood in his mouth, he choked on it. Rolling onto his side, Ichigo let the cough take him, knowing somehow that it was making Zangetsu's job easier by clearing out some of the old damaged tissue. Sure enough, the pain in his body began to subside, and with it, the muffled feeling in his head and ears. Ichigo collapsed onto his front, pins and needles pulsing in all four limbs.

The shift in his head came again, only this time it was Zangetsu stepping aside and ceding total control back to Ichigo. _Thanks,_ Ichigo muttered silently, meaning it but still wary of what had passed between them.

He got a strong visual impression of being flipped off, tempered somewhat by a respectful nod, and then Zangetsu was gone, and Ichigo was alone in his head once more. 

Gasping, he flopped over onto his back and stared at the timbered ceiling. His lungs rose and fell easily, and inside his chest, his heart beat a sturdy solid rhythm. A moment later, Yoruichi's face appeared above him, her expression a familiar mixture of annoyance and relief. Ichigo knew it well. Yuzu had used it all the time when he got into fights.

"I thought you were dead. Was that what I think it was?" 

"If you thought the same thing that left your boyfriend unconscious in his own training ground with a smashed up leg, then yeah," Ichigo replied, in no mood for banter. Yet again, hanging around with Yoruichi had almost got him killed. When was he going to learn? And more to the point, "Is Hisagi okay?"

Yoruichi's gaze flicked away towards something else for a second. "He will be. Yamada's seeing to him now."

"Yamada?" Ichigo struggled upright to find the 4th's lieutenant bowed over Hisagi, both hands glowing green as he healed the gaping wound in Hisagi's shoulder. At the sight of it, Ichigo's belly lurched as though the missing part was trying to escape. "The hollow tried to eat him," he confessed quietly.

If he was hoping for some kind of explanation as to why from Yoruichi, he was out of luck. All she said was, "Yeah. What the hell was with that anyway?"

He was saved from having to admit that he didn't have a clue either by a sudden movement from Hisagi and Yamada's concerned, "Yoruichi-sama, he's waking up."

Yoruichi rose immediately and hurried over, all her attention focused on the bands around Hisagi's arms and neck. Ichigo scrambled to follow her, only considering at the last moment that maybe it wasn't such a shit hot idea. But by then, it was too late. Hisagi's eyes had fluttered open and locked on to Ichigo's immediately. Black and gold focused and, for a breathless second, Ichigo thought the fight was going to kick off all over again. Then, the strangest thing happened. A tentative smile bloomed across Hisagi's face, and suddenly the monster was gone and in its place was the young man Ichigo had seen glimpses of that night at Tōsen's house. Sweet, kind of awkward, and desperately earnest.

Fascinated, Ichigo smiled back, and was blown away when Hisagi's cheeks below his scars and the tips of his ears turned slightly pink. Was the guy trying to flirt with him? That was kind of cute- 

Except, hang on, this was the same Hisagi who'd been doing his level best to turn Ichigo into sashimi not five minutes ago. And the same one Ichigo had just taken a huge lump out of. With his _teeth_ , no less! So, no, whatever this was, it couldn't be flirting. Not unless Ichigo had totally misunderstood the concept all these years. 

"You're fine, they're holding," Yoruichi said, surprising Ichigo into breaking eye contact with Hisagi. 

She was actually talking to Yamada, who believed her going by the way his shoulders dropped in relief. "Excellent," he said. "Then we should have you all healed up in no time, Hisagi-san."

Hisagi's gaze drifted slowly to Yamada, who'd fired up the healing kidō again, before returning to Ichigo. Ichigo's skin prickled at the attention. Byakuya's tendencies aside, he wasn't a big fan of being watched, and this felt like it was going to become a thing. 

Trying to distract himself, he turned to Yoruichi. "So, any idea yet exactly when this fight's gonna happen?"

Yoruichi grinned slyly at him. Rising to let Yamada get on with his task, she said, "Funny you should mention that since I've just got word. You've a day off tomorrow and then you're up."

Less than forty-eight hours. Ichigo's heart lurched into double time, though whether it was from nerves or excitement, he couldn't tell. Probably both, plus a bit of relief that it was actually, finally, going to happen. Living in this limbo of not knowing had been hell. At least afterwards he'd either be dead or free.

"Looking forward to it?" Yoruichi asked.

Ichigo shrugged, unwilling to give away his true feelings. "Just glad it's finally happening," he offered. 

"I hear that," Yoruichi replied and held out her hand. It was for Zangetsu, Ichigo realised after a brief second of confusion. He couldn't take the sword back to the cell with him. He glanced down at his bloodstained blade, not wanting to give it up again so soon after getting it back. But he'd given Yoruichi his word, back there on Senzaikyū Hill, and feeling reluctant really wasn't a good enough reason to break that kind of promise.

With a sigh, he handed Zangetsu over, just as a black-clad ninja appeared in the doorway. Yoruichi huffed and glared over at them. "Damn, I suppose I'd better see what they want," she said, taking Zangetsu and setting off across the dojo, calling out as she went, "This had better be good. I'm busy." 

Whatever the message was, Ichigo was too far away to hear, but it must have involved something more important than babysitting him since, a moment later, after the messenger blurred out of the room, Yoruichi called over to Yamada, "I have to go. Can I leave these two with you, Yamada-kun?"

The lieutenant glanced back over his shoulder. "Of course, Yoruichi-sama. I assume Shiba-sama will be needing an escort back to the Senzaikyū?"

"You got it," Yoruichi replied, heading for the door, "but he's all collared up, so you don't have to worry about him doing a runner."

Not that Ichigo would anyway. There was too much riding on this. Too many people relying on what he could win for them. Security, freedom. Maybe even, for Renji and Byakuya, the chance to come home, because once he'd beaten Zaraki, there'd not be a captain in Seireitei who'd lightly go into the challenge arena against him. Ryūken and Uryū too. Ichigo could adopt them into the clan and they could finally stop hiding. Chad, Yuzu and Karin could come back home, and all of that, and more, rested solely on Ichigo winning, so it simply wasn't on for him to run.

Since it was going to take about an hour for Yamada to finishing fixing Hisagi, and the latter's gaze wasn't getting any less insistent, or more comfortable, Ichigo took himself off to the adjoining bathing area to get in a decent soak while the opportunity was there. Scrubbed clean and feeling much the better for it, Ichigo sank into the steaming pool with a contented hum. Heat seeped into his bones, easing strained muscles and erasing even the memory of bruises. It was really tempting to just lie there and let his mind wander, but he had unfinished business and, in here, no-one was likely to disturb him.

He landed in his inner world ready for a fight, and instead found Zangetsu lying on the stone stairs that wound up the centre of the Senzaikyū with his arms crossed under his head. All traces of blood were gone from his clothes, and there was no sign of bruising on his face. As Ichigo stood, he flicked a glance over at him and muttered, "King," before going back to staring at the ceiling. 

That was… weird. Normally you couldn't keep the ass down, his ego was so huge. Still, there was no point picking a fight when there wasn't one to be had. Ichigo wandered over to join the zanpakutō spirit on the steps and, for a long moment, they just sat together in silence, Ichigo pondering how peaceful it was just 'being' alongside this volatile part of his soul. With Ossan, sure; back in the early days, Ichigo had spent many hours meditating in his inner world; but peace and Zangetsu were two words you'd never expect to find together in one sentence. 

Finally though, he sighed. "Going to apologise?"

Zangetsu gave him the side-eye. "Hell no. I saved your ass, and you know it.'"

Ah, there was sass Ichigo hadn't been missing. Still, it put the main subject front and centre. Scrubbing both hands through his hair, Ichigo said, "That's what Yoruichi was for. And anyway, it was a sparring session. Hisagi might have knocked me out, but he wouldn't have killed me." At least, he was pretty certain Hisagi wouldn't have. After all, he'd had loads of chances before that one, and Ichigo's head was still on his shoulders. 

"Never said he was gonna kill you." Zangetsu stretched, long and lean, fingers cracking above his head. "Was me he wanted."

Ichigo pricked up his ears. Hisagi had been after Zangetsu? The zanpakutō or the hollow. The hollow made more sense given the circumstances, but how did he even know it was there? Maybe that's what that moment of connection had been, early on in the fight. Hisagi had definitely ramped it up after that and, looking back, most of his attacks had been designed to wear Ichigo down. Trying to force Zangetsu out? Maybe.

So perhaps this wasn't totally Zangetsu's fault. "You were the one he wanted to kill?"

Zangetsu shrugged a shoulder. "Not kill, eat," he said, which wasn't exactly the main matter on Ichigo's mind; after all, having a homicidal escapologist living inside you wasn't made any worse by finding out they were a cannibal too; but it was something they needed to talk about. 

"About that," Ichigo said, leaving the sentence open for possible replies. But Zangetsu didn't seem to be listening. He was still staring up at the ceiling, distracted by something. Ichigo leaned over and craned his neck to see what was going on. Up the inside of the stairwell, he could just see Ossan standing motionless, his hands out in front of him, before a wall of dense white mist. As they watched, the mist slowly thinned and the Quincy stepped up a stair. 

Somehow, he was cleansing Tsukishima from Ichigo's mind. Or at least this bit of it. Ichigo hadn't realised the shinigami's influence had encroached so far. He shuddered and, wanting to take his mind off it, returned to the subject of eating friends. "So it's what, eat or be eaten?"

"Something like that."

Ichigo huffed in frustration. "Come on! You owe me some kind of explanation!"

"And I'm saying you wouldn't fucking understand it!"

"Try me!" 

They were nose to nose, centimetres apart and glaring at each other fit to kill, but neither of them had attacked. That was progress of a kind, Ichigo guessed. There was also a hint of colour across the very tops of Zangetsu's normally chalk-white cheeks. Just like there had been on Hisagi's.

A sudden thought occurred to Ichigo. "This isn't… some kind of sex thing, is it?"

"Fuck, no!" Zangetsu spat, recoiling like Ichigo had just stuck a bug up his nose. "Hollows don't do shit like that!"

"Eh?" It was Ichigo's turn to recoil, though his was from surprise. Wasn't this the guy that spent half his time making gross comments about Chad in Ichigo's head? Then again… most of those were about how _tasty_ Chad looked. In Karakura, when Ichigo had been with Renji and Byakuya, Zangetsu hadn't so much as cleared his throat.

Ichigo shuddered. Why would a hollow want to eat a hollow anyway? 

Thinking back, he was pretty sure it had something to do with them evolving to the next level. Didn't adjuchas have to keep on eating hollows or they ended up as gillian again? Something like that, anyway. Though, unless Zangetsu had been sneaking out for midnight snacks without Ichigo's knowledge, that bit of information didn't seem to apply in this case.

Which meant they were back to square one. "So, if it's not sex, what is it?"

Zangetsu had slumped back on the stairs and was staring up at Ossan again. When Ichigo spoke, he shrugged, "Like I told ya, you wouldn't get it." His gaze flickered to Ichigo. "Shinigami." It was amazing how much loathing he could put into that one word. A bit rich considering he was a part of a shinigami's soul, but then Ichigo was no stranger to being at war with himself so why would the other parts of himself be any different. 

He huffed a sigh, giving up trying to force anything out of the hollow. When Zangetsu was in this kind of a mood, nothing except a full-on fight was going to work, and even then it might not. "Just tell me you won't do it again," he said. "Especially not when we're fighting Zaraki. Crap knows what the reaction would be if I went full on hollow in front of the whole Gotei."

A wicked smirk curved Zangetsu's lips and a hellfire glow lit his eyes. "Hah! Make the bastards shit their pants, I would. But nah, we got a deal, king, and I ain't gonna break it again."

Which meant, Ichigo guessed, that whatever had happened must have been specific to Hisagi.

*

Yamada escorted him all the way back to the Senzaikyū. Ichigo had half-expected the fukutaichō to have organised someone from the Shihōin estate to do it instead, but no, Yamada stuck with him, right up the steps and into the cell. It was only when they got there, and Yamada waved away the guards who were standing outside, that Ichigo suspected there was more to his actions than duty.

Since the last visitor he'd had from the 4th had stabbed him in the back and tried to take over his mind, when Yamada closed the door and took a step towards him, Ichigo's first priority was to make sure his back was safely to the wall. But, if Yamada noticed his quick shuffle to the other side of the room, he made no comment. Gaze respectfully averted and tone perfectly polite, he said, "Shiba-taichō, if I might ask, what arrangements did you make for your staff before you embarked on this course of action?"

Not exactly the kind of thing a lieutenant asked a captain, especially not one from another division. Plus, Ichigo's staff at the estate were clan business, nothing to do with the Gotei at all. "Good enough," Ichigo said warily. Not brilliant, he had to admit, but Koniwa had been third seat, and he was minor nobility. He'd know how to keep Rami and Unshō safe, even if they didn't know themselves, which was unlikely since they were Kuchiki trained. 

"I see." Yamada's gaze lifted. "And those who relied on you at the 6th?"

That was an even stickier matter. Ichigo's first instinct had been to save his family, his division had come a poor second. "They have Hisana, and Yoruichi said she'd look out for them."

"A lieutenant who was promoted for her skill in political matters and the best friend of one of the most notorious men in Seireitei."

Put like that, it didn't sound good. Ichigo suppressed a wince and said, "I had no choice. My family came first. They had to."

Yamada nodded slowly. "As they should, as they should." A half smile crooked his lips and he nodded. "Thank you, Shiba-taichō. I think you have answered a great many questions for me today," he said, and with that, he turned and left.

*

The bones danced. Like sticks and leaves in an autumn wind, they swirled around him. Byakuya stood at the centre, guiding them with hand and will, feeling them respond to his every whim. It wasn't Senbonzakura. When he reached out with his mind, there was no answering touch, but for now his inner world was no longer entirely dead, and that gave him some relief.

He let the bones settle, a slow withdrawing of power which sent them drifting back to the ground, and took a moment to breathe. Not because he was tired. Far from it; the energy from the pill he'd taken still coursed through his veins, fast and invigorating; it was control that he lacked and that was what this exercise was designed to develop. Power was useless without control and, if he wished to make enough of this new ability so that, when an asauchi finally fell into his hands, he stood a chance of creating something of a weapon from it, then he had to control it completely.

Stage two must be building something from the bones.

Byakuya took a steadying breath, levelled his will against a single set of bones and brought them to life. Immediately they tried to spin, to dance. He'd allowed himself too much leeway. He clamped down on it, ruthlessly, forcing the bones into something more suited to their nature. Slowly, painstakingly, a shape emerged from the chaotic bundle. Legs, arms, head. The spine building itself under Byakuya's guiding hand, finger and toe bones sliding into place. The gaps left by missing bones filling with dust and debris that compressed until there was no difference that could be discerned. 

Finally it stood there, as complete a skeleton as could be achieved, hollow-eyed and soulless. Byakuya held the image firmly in his mind as he duplicated it, raising others around him from their graves. Again and again he drew the bones together, the process speeding up as the numbers grew, the whole battlefield stirring as skeleton after skeleton found its feet and stood for the first time without armour or weapon to support it.

That was good, that was progress. But it wasn't enough. He had to find some way of allowing them to fight. Without reinforcing armour, edged weapons were useless, too heavy and cumbersome, but Byakuya wasn't dealing with Senbonzakura any more. He was no longer compelled by the limits of a melee type zanpakutō.

Allowing all but one of the skeletons to collapse, Byakuya focused his attention. When wielding Senbonzakura, his control was such that he could determine to within millimetres where each single blade went. He used that discipline now, feeding power into the skeleton. It lifted its head, then its hands. Power bloomed amongst the fleshless bones bringing a simulacrum of life to empty eyes, the silver lightning glow of Byakuya's favourite kidō, byakurai, almost his signature move and one he had been able to unleash without incantation or even thought for well over a century. Byakuya breathed and the kidō shot from the skeleton's dead hands, powering out across the desolate battlefield. 

It faded too quickly, the skeleton collapsing along with its passing, but even that wasn't enough to temper Byakuya's joy. His heart soared as it pounded in his chest. Yes! This was what he had wanted to achieve. His will, his power, stripped of Senbonzakura, yes, but still functioning and still a force to be reckoned with. Now all he had to do was hone it.

But to do that, he would need another of Mendori's little pink pills.

As he turned to make his way back into the tent, he heard the bones shift and for a moment it felt like he was leaving a piece of himself behind.


	16. March for a Bloody Shangri-La

Huddled beneath her blankets, Yuzu did her best to sleep. It wasn't easy. For one thing, she was cold again. Maybe it was a hang-over from the hypothermia, but she seemed to feel the cold even more now than she had before, and trying to sleep through it was really difficult. Up until today, she'd stayed as late as she could at the communal firepit, enjoying the warmth the extra bodies generated, but that was forbidden to her now and her own pit seemed sad and chill by comparison.

At least she had the tent, distant as it was from the others, and it wasn't like she'd be here for long anyway. The others would be back in a few days and then they could move on to the Kyōraku estate and the senkaimon there.

Yuzu bit her lip and blinked back the burn in her eyes. She didn't want to go to the Kyōraku estate! She wanted to go home and see Tsukishima-sensei and sleep in her nice warm bed with a job to do that she enjoyed and was good at. Nii-chan had said to meet them in the living world, but what were they even going to do there? They couldn't go back to their old lives. They were dead now.

It just made no sense, not when they had a home and family here. Surely something could be worked out if people just sat down and talked it through. Like with Shige and all the other refugees. If people like Tsukishima-sensei knew about them, then they could get proper help rather than having to make do with a one-armed healer.

Not that Isane-san wasn't excellent at what she did, because she was. Much much better than Yuzu, of course. But Tsukishima-sensei would be better again, and he could do other things like find them jobs and proper warm homes.

Sleep finally took her what felt like hours later, and only moments after that she was jerked awake again.

"Yuzu-sama." There was someone crouched over her, whispering. The night around them was pitch dark and so so silent.

"Take?" Yuzu recognised the voice and shape, despite the bulky winter clothing. "You're back?" Even the rustle of the blankets sounded loud so Yuzu kept her voice as quiet as she could.

"Yeah. Come on, you need to move. We're leaving right now."

It was sudden, but Yuzu knew better than to argue with a command like that. Pushing her blankets back, she crawled after Take to the entrance of the tent and slipped on her sandals. Outside, the moon cast just enough dim light to let them pick their way along the canyon away from the camp and, once they were a few hundred yards away, Yuzu clambered onto Take's back.

"Hold on tight," Take whispered, before using shunpo to leap up the towering rocks to the mountainside above. Yuzu clung on, eyes screwed shut as the world moved around her. The temperature dropped as they emerged onto the surface, but not to the same freezing conditions Yuzu remembered from before. There was virtually no wind tonight, and that alone made it feel far less like her bones were freezing solid.

There wasn't anyone waiting for them either. "Where are Karin and Ryū-jichan?" she whispered in Take's ear. 

Rather than answer, Take made a little grunting sound and took another couple of steps of shunpo before stopping in the shelter of some large rocks. 

"You'll see them soon," she said as Yuzu slid to the ground. "I made contact with Tsukishima-sensei." It was way too dark to see Take's expression but her smile was audible.

"Wha-? How?" Yuzu gasped.

Take's voice turned serious. "Three days ago, just after we set off, I told Karin-san I changed my mind about leaving you alone. They kept on to Rokushō while I doubled back, but instead of coming to the camp, I went to Seireitei."

Yuzu squeaked, mostly from excitement but there was fear mixed in too. Even knowing Take was back with her and safe, it was still a huge risk she'd taken.

"I know, it was risky. But…" Take huffed. "I know Shiba-taichō was trying to do the right thing when he told Sado-san to take you girls to the living world, but if you take that step then you've crossed a line. If onmitsukidō catch up with you, it's not prison anymore, it's execution. So I had to know there wasn't another option, before we screwed up completely."

It was almost exactly what Yuzu had been thinking earlier. "And?" she said.

"I found Tsukishima-sensei in the ramen stall across from the 4th." Take sounded breathless with joy. "You should have seen his face when I walked in, Yuzu-sama. He was so glad to see me, it was great." 

Yuzu felt her own heart lighten at the thought of her mentor. The night air suddenly seemed warmer, not so scary.

"Yamada-fukutaichō was with him so we couldn't talk specifics, but he asked after you right away. I told him you were safe, which made him really happy, but then he and the lieutenant had to go because their shifts were starting. Tsukishima-sensei told me to wait right there for him, that he'd be back as soon as he could because he had some important news. He didn't come, but Yamada-fukutaichō did about half an hour later, and he brought this."

There was a rustling of cloth. Take had been getting something out of the front of her coat Yuzu realised a moment later when something long and almost cylindrical was pressed into her hands. A scroll-case, Yuzu thought immediately. Maybe a message from Tsukishima-sensei? But her fingers found a hilt where the lid should be, so it wasn't a scroll-case at all, but a small sword or knife. 

She brought it closer to her face, straining her eyes to pick up details. It was impossible to see much in the dim moonlight, but the leather was smooth and well worn and Yuzu fancied she could almost feel the heart of it. This wasn't any old knife, it was nii-chan's tanto! "How?" Yuzu asked, pressing the family heirloom to her chest and staring blindly at Take. 

"It was in a sealed package that only I could open," Take said, "And there was a note with it from Tsukishima-sensei. It said that Shiba-taichō's working on a way to let you and the rest of your family come home, but in the meantime, the tanto was a way of showing that Tsukishima-sensei has his full support to look out for you."

Yuzu pressed a hand to her mouth. Nii-chan and Tsukishima-sensei were working together. It was perfect.

"There's directions to a safehouse in west one with it as well," Take said emotion swelling in her voice. The next moment, Yuzu was yanked into a strong-armed hug, a firm kiss landing on the top of her head. "You're going to be fine. Your brother's fine. Give it a few days and I'm sure we'll all be able to go home."

It was too much. Tears pricked at Yuzu's eyes and she buried her face in Take's shoulder. To go home. It was too wonderful, perfect, more than she could have hoped for, but some small part of her, some traitorous voice murmuring in the back of her head, said that she needed to check one thing. 

Pulling away from Take's warming hug, she said, "What about Karin and Sado? They'll get back to the camp and we'll already have left."

"That's why we need to be quick," Take said, guiding Yuzu's hands to tuck the tanto safely away in her coat. "I'm going to drop you off at the safehouse and then go back for them. With luck, I'll be able to intercept them on the road."

And not involve the people at the camp at all. That would probably be for the best. Though Yuzu couldn't help feeling a pang of worry thinking about Shige being left behind. Was there something more that could be done for him? Isane had said not, but she might be wrong. She wasn't Unohana-taichō, after all.

As she climbed up on Take's back and they set off for west one and safety, Yuzu made a decision: she would tell Tsukishima-sensei everything she knew about the camp. If she did that, there was no reason he couldn't rescue the refugees just like he'd rescued her.

*

Dawn had come and gone by the time they emerged from a wide stretch of forest onto the edge of a snow-covered meadow. Plumes of smoke rose from below, the other side of a fast running river. A village down in the valley, Take said, but they didn't need to go that far. The safehouse she headed towards was nestled close to the tree line, a ramshackle little building with boards that were grey with age, a slanted porch and half its shutters missing. It didn't look like the kind of place an eminent member of the 4th division would stay, but maybe that was the point; no one would think to look for Tsukishima-sensei here.

As they drew close, a flock of black birds took off from the grass roof, wheeling high into the grey sky before passing over their heads with a thunder of wings into the trees. Yuzu slid off Take's back and gazed longingly at the small house's still windows in the hopes of catching sight of her mentor. "Do you think he's already here?" she asked.

Take made a small sound and shrugged. "Maybe." She seemed preoccupied, looking around and, when Yuzu surged forward towards the front door, her hand shot out and grabbed Yuzu by the sleeve. "Stay behind me, my lady, just in case."

Just in case of what? Tsukishima-sensei wouldn't let anything bad happen, so long as they followed his instructions correctly. Yuzu knew that absolutely. Still, she did as she'd been told, following close behind as Take, sword drawn, picked her way up the front steps and slowly slid back the door. 

Inside was as gloomy as the outside was bright. Yuzu squinted past Take's arm, trying to force her eyes into seeing. For the longest moment, there was nothing, and then… Were those shadows moving in the corners or-

Suddenly everything exploded into movement. "Run!" Take was yelling, and she was shoving Yuzu backwards, toward the steps. Something whizzed past Yuzu's nose, thudding into the post beside her, a multi-pronged metal thing now sticking out of the wood. In the doorway, three shadows suddenly appeared, silver flashing around them, and the sound of metal striking metal exploded into the air. The silver had to be blades, and Take was fighting, desperately parrying each attack, still yelling despite the blood on her face, voice high and desperate. "It's a trap! Run! Now!"

Yuzu tried her best to move, to follow orders, but it was like her feet were stuck to the ground. This wasn't a sparring session like she'd seen often at the 4th. This was real, this was fighting to the death, what nii-chan would have had to do against Unohana-taichō, and… Yuzu couldn't think. Blood thundered in her head, her stomach was a dead lump of acid in her belly, her legs were numb. Take was going to die, and it was all her fault-

"Yuzu, please!" Take screamed, and that finally made something in Yuzu snap loose. 

She spun, stumbling down the steps, and fled as fast as she could across the meadow. Behind her, someone screamed. Yuzu glanced back in time to see someone falling. But not Take, it couldn't be Take. Tsukishima-sensei wouldn't let it be Take. Tsukishima-sensei had promised they'd be safe. So where was he? Where was he?!

Terrified tears blinding her eyes and breath sobbing in her throat, Yuzu kept running, and was suddenly amongst the trees. Twigs snagged at her hair and clothing, roots tried to trip her. Her foot caught in dip, ankle twisting. With a cry, she threw out a hand to stop herself from falling. But, instead of hitting a tree, her palm slammed into something else. Something just as hard, but covered in cloth. Something that grabbed her back around the wrist.

Instinctively, Yuzu lashed out with feet and remaining fist, yelling and screaming, "Let me go! Let me go!" But the grip was absolute, each blow meeting nothing but unwavering solidity. It was like fighting a statue. Still, Yuzu didn't stop. All her terror was driving her, making her fight, making her scream, she couldn't help it, couldn't stop. Until, suddenly, something smacked her across the face. 

Stunned, Yuzu sat down hard. The ground was wet and cold and, ears ringing, she blinked tears from her eyes until she could finally focus on the person standing over her still gripping her hand. It was a woman, not much taller than Yuzu herself, dressed in a black bodysuit, and with short dark hair and frowning eyes the colour of rain clouds. And she wasn't a stranger. They'd never been introduced, but Yuzu had seen her before, back at the 6th, the day Karin had taken her there to help with the refugees. It was Soifon-fukutaichō; the lieutenant of the 2nd division, and premier member of the onmitsukidō.

"A-am I under arrest?" Yuzu stammered.

Somehow, Soifon's expression turned even sourer. "Not until Lady Yoruichi demands it, no. However you are wanted for questioning." Her fingers tightened around Yuzu's wrist. "Now, will you continue to fight, or are you planning to come quietly?"

*

The gates to the onmitsukidō holding area loomed high above them. Huge, wooden and barred, they filled the way ahead, uncompromisingly solid. They were probably covered in kidō seals too, only of course Yuzu couldn't sense those. Not that she needed to. The sheer scale of the doors told her that she wouldn't be leaving this place until the onmitsukidō let her go. And the person to decide that would be the onmitsukidō commander, Shihōin Yoruichi.

According to Hisana, there weren't many people in Seireitei, even among the nobility, who had a higher rank than Yuzu. In theory, anyway. Mostly Yuzu found that people treated her like an adjunct to her brother; someone to be respected for his sake, not her own.

Would Yoruichi-sama, twenty-second head of the True First Shihōin clan and Yuzu's senior, be the same? Yuzu really didn't know. They'd only met a couple of times; once while Yuzu had still been at the 4th when she'd been in Unohana-taichō's office, and then later, on that awful day when Yuzu had given evidence to Central 46 about Abarai-fukutaichō. Back then, Yoruichi had been kind and helpful, but then so had Kyōraku-taichō, and look at how his attitude had changed afterwards. 

Yoruichi's had too, Yuzu supposed. After all, it had been her soldiers searching the house when Sado and Karin had staged their rescue. Had them coming been part of Tsukishima-sensei's plan, or had Yuzu wrecked everything when she'd run away with her sister? Looking back, perhaps she should have stayed and allowed them to arrest her. 

She shuddered as the huge gates creaked closed behind them. It felt as final as a death knell and Yuzu discovered that, even if she had been supposed to stay, she couldn't regret running even a little.

The person waiting for them on the other side of the gates wasn't Yoruichi-sama. It wasn't even someone Yuzu recognised. The brown-haired shinigami bowed deeply to Soifon and said, "Fukutaichō. Everything is as you commanded."

A firm shove in the back took Yuzu by surprise. She staggered forward as Soifon strode past, her voice, brusque and loud in the high entrance hall, carrying back to them easily, "Then stop posturing, idiot, and take her down." Within moments she'd vanished along the dark corridor, deep into the building, a pair of ninja hard on her heels. One of the ninja had been limping. From the blow Take had landed before… 

There had been a body. Yuzu had seen it in the distance being hauled away, and though no one had said it was Take, Yuzu knew it had to have been, otherwise Take would be a prisoner here too, just like Yuzu.

A hand landed on her shoulder. Yuzu jumped, stomach leaping to her throat, and blinked fearfully up into sharp yellow eyes behind purple half-frame glasses. The shinigami was looking down his nose at her like she was some kind of insignificant bug only fit for being crushed underfoot. It was the same way Yamada-fukutaichō used to look at her, back when she first came to the 4th. Yuzu had to swallow down nerves as she bowed and stammered out a polite, "Hello, I'm Shiba Yuzu. I'm very pleased to meet you."

The expression on the shinigami's face turned even more contemptuous. "I know who you are, girl. And why you're here." Fingers tightening on Yuzu's shoulder, he glared long and hard down the corridor in the direction Soifon had gone, muttering something under his breath. Then, after tucking few wayward strands of red-brown hair behind his ear, he added audibly, "Well, come on. Hurry, we don't have all day."

He gave her a little shake and Yuzu let herself be guided along the corridor too. For a few yards, she thought they were going to follow Soifon all the way to the end, but then the shinigami opened a door to the left and almost immediately they were plunging down a set of steep stone steps. The door above them snapped closed and all traces of daylight suddenly vanished, replaced by the sickly reddish-white glow of kidō. Heat sapped from her body, as though sucked away by walls that radiated the cold, and even dressed in her warm winter coat, Yuzu started to shiver. Instinctively she drew closer to the shinigami, whose hand still gripped her shoulder hard enough to bruise. He made no move to comfort her. Not that she expected it. Soifon-fukutaichō might have called it 'questioning' but Yuzu knew the truth; she was a prisoner here, so it wasn't like any of them really cared.

They descended for what felt like forever, the soft thud of their sandals on stone the only sound between them. Gradually, the noise grew louder, echoing back until, by the time they reached the next level, the air seemed to resound with it. Then someone cried out, and Yuzu realised that what she'd been hearing hadn't been their feet at all. Something else was making that slapping sound, like a beater on carpet. 

Or a cane on skin.

She hadn't been there when Abarai-san had been beaten, but she'd seen it happen to others, in a much milder way. It had been the favourite punishment meted out by fourth seat Iemura. He always carried a cane wherever he went and the sound of it smacking against someone was so familiar that Yuzu couldn't believe she had mistaken it for anything else.

The cry came again, and this time Yuzu was sure that she recognised the voice. 

Her feet stopped moving. And she had no idea why. Nor what she was feeling. Was it terror? Elation? Her heart thundered in her chest, her knees were wobbling and, even though she had them clamped into fists, her hands shook so hard that they trembled against her thighs. All she wanted to do was run. But towards the cry or away from it? 

A shove in the back got her moving again. She staggered a few steps, feet slowing, only to be sped up by yet another shove. Each time she advanced, the voice came closer. It was coming from behind a wooden door at the far end of the corridor and eventually, even at Yuzu's slow staggered pace, they reached it.

Leaning past her, the shinigami thumped firmly on the door. The rhythmic sound of the beating stopped, cries fading to simple whimpers, and a few moments later the door cracked open a sliver. A demonic visage peered out. It took Yuzu a moment to realise it was a man, with a bald head, the skin around his eyes dyed to resemble a skull, and streaks of clotted red decorating his cheeks and forehead. A white shitagi gaped wide across his chest showing more marks winding across his torso. Up his arms too, obvious to see with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. 

For a long moment, the skull-man studied them in silence, then he growled, "Kibune-sanseki," and flung the door wide open.

In the centre of the room, tied naked to crossed poles, his back and legs a mess of bruised cuts, was Tsukishima-sensei. Yuzu wailed, her knees finally buckling. At the sound of her cry, Tsukishima rolled his head towards her. His face was blotched red and white, all sweat and snot and tears, his lips bitten bloody, and his hair, normally so neat and tidy, hung in damp strings that clung to his cheeks. But his eyes. Oh, his eyes were raging madness.

Pain stabbed through Yuzu's head as everything lurched into focus. This was all her fault. She had made this happen. She had been the one who'd wanted Kyōraku and Yoruichi dead. She'd been the one to come to Tsukishima for the poison. He'd tried to tell her no, but she hadn't listened. She never listened to him. She was a bad student, a bad person. Irresponsible. Stupid. 

Then, in his hour of need, when Tsukishima-sensei had been relying on her being there for him, she had balked and fled. And here he was, being tortured, and it was all her fault.

"I'm so sorry!" she sobbed, falling forward, crawling on hands and knees, abject, begging. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know! I thought it was the right thing to do. I'm sorry, so sorry-"

The door slammed shut in her face and she collapsed weeping, inconsolable. 

"For goodness' sake, girl, get up," the shinigami escorting her snapped, hauling on her arm.

Yuzu let herself be manhandled, too shocked to protest as she was marched back down the corridor and up the steps. She didn't even notice where they were until she was pushed down onto a cushion and Soifon's voice said, "That'll be all, Kibune."

Dazedly, Yuzu blinked at the lieutenant who was seated across from her at a low wooden table, and then around at the room. It was empty, except for them and the table. The only door was closed tight, a silhouette of the guard just visible through a small barred window at the top. In other words, it was a prison cell, and Yuzu was trapped in it, stuck, as was only right and proper for someone as unworthy as herself. She deserved everything that was going to happen to her.

She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.

"Let's talk about your brother," Soifon said suddenly, breaking the silence. "He claims to know nothing about the contaminated food. Is he lying?"

Was he? Yuzu searched her memory for clues. It was a poor and muddled thing that seemed to wrap back around itself in convoluted imaginings, the untangling of which filled Yuzu with unspeakable terror. Trembling, she shook her head, "He-he's not lying. It was all my idea."

"Yours?" Soifon's eyebrows rose. "Not Tsukishima's?"

"No!" Her head-shake became vehement. "No, sensei tried to tell me not to do it. He said it was wrong to kill people for no reason, but I wouldn't listen. I wanted them dead, all of them." That memory was so clear in her mind. Back in Tsukishima-sensei's office, she'd been pleading with him and he'd been trying to explain, reason with her, tell her why it had to be done. But no, that couldn't be right, because she was the one who'd wanted-

"What about this? It was found in your room." Something thunked down onto the table in front of her. Yuzu sniffed back tears again and looked at the familiar white ceramic pot with its cork lid.

"Shin gave that to me," she said. 

"Shin Jirō, the informant from the 10th?"

Had he been? Yuzu didn't know for sure, though she'd heard rumours. "He was steward for a while but now he's nii-chan's servant." She thought about Koniwa and Rami and Unshō and what might be happening to them, and added quickly, "but not at the estate, not anymore. He's doing something somewhere else."

As Yuzu was speaking, Soifon had risen from the table and gone over to the door as though to open it. Now she glanced back at Yuzu and asked, "Where and what, exactly?"

Yuzu flinched at the coldness in those intense grey eyes. "I don't know, I swear. Shin just said that nii-chan wanted more of what had been in it and-"

"More?" Soifon stalked back over to the table. "I thought you said the poisoning was all your idea?"

"It was, it is!" Yuzu wailed. What had that to do with the pot of cream. "I don't understand!" 

She flinched as palms slammed against the tabletop. "The substance in that pot contains traces of Quincy reiryoku, the only possible source of which is you, your sister or your brother, the only living Quincy in Soul Society."

Yuzu's mind whirled, because that wasn't true. Ryūken-jiichan and Uryū-chan were out there in Rukongai, and if Yoruichi-san knew about them being there, then surely Soifon-fukutaichō must know as well? She didn't seem to be acting like she did, but maybe that was all an act to convince whoever else might be listening. 

It didn't matter. Yuzu might be a terrible person, but she couldn't, wouldn't, give up her family, not even by accident. Pressing her lips closed, she dropped her gaze to her hands. 

"So tell me, Quincy-girl, did you use your own reiryoku to poison the clan-heads?"

She didn't have _enough_ reiryoku to do that, but denying it would just shift the blame onto Karin or Ichigo, so Yuzu kept her silence.

For a long moment, Soifon said nothing, though her fingers curled on the tabletop, clipped nails scraping across the wood. Then she snarled, "Perhaps a few days locked in this cell will loosen your tongue."

Yuzu shuddered and hot tears slid down her cheeks. Still, she gripped her hands tightly in her lap and refused to answer. Even if Soifon threatened her with the kind of beating Tsukishima-sensei….

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt as her mind flooded with memories of her beloved teacher. In taking her family's part, was she letting him down again? Was she protecting one at the cost of the other? And if so, which should she choose?

Her head throbbed. She gasped, pressing her hands to her eyes as bile rose in her throat. If she'd eaten at all today, she would have thrown it back up, the pain was so bad. 

"I see even the threat is enough to scare you," Soifon sneered. "Your brother would have been wiser to leave you a servant at the 4th rather than trying to raise you up. He, at least, has something of his father about him. Apparently only your mother's blood runs in your veins."

It didn't. If it did, then Yuzu would have enough reiryoku to be a proper Quincy and escape from here, to rescue her family and her teacher and never be a burden to anyone again. Why couldn't she have been a real Quincy, like Ryūken-jiichan and Uryū? Or even a shinigami like nii-chan and Karin.

More tears fell. Yuzu didn't even try to stop them. She had no idea how to, there were so many emotions bubbling up inside her, turning her guts to chaos and her heart into an aching, squeezing lump.

"Weak and pathetic," Soifon was snarling. She was leaning across the table, Yuzu could feel her breath, hot and sharp as she spat the words, "Nothing but an embarrassment to your family and your clan. If you had any pride at all in your name, you would tell me the truth."

It was true. She was useless. It was all her fault, that Take was dead and Tsukishima was being beaten. All her fault that nii-chan and Karin were running for her lives. All her fault. Everything was her fault.

But what did they expect. She was weak and stupid and pathetic and not a proper anything!

"Whose reiryoku did you use?"

Except herself. Kurosaki Yuzu.

"Whose, girl? Tell me!"

An ordinary human being, with a family who loved her despite her flaws. _That_ Yuzu knew with a part of herself that could never be touched by any kind of doubt. They loved her, and she loved them. Whatever happened.

Fingers grasped her wrists, wrenching her hands away from her face, making her see, making her face her fears. "Are you so weak that you would see your brother beaten alongside your teacher? Your sister?"

But love wasn't going to be enough. Not this time. 

"Or shall I have them both executed!"

She was going to have to say something, otherwise-

The door behind Soifon suddenly slammed open. Yuzu screamed, and Soifon was halfway to her feet, sword drawn, before either of them registered the cheery voice calling, "Knock, knock. Sorry for intruding!" 

In the doorway stood a large machine covered in dials and levers. In her panic, Yuzu thought they were being attacked by some kind of robot, until she saw the shock of blond hair poking out over the top and the green trousers sticking out the bottom, trousers so short that they left pale hairy ankles completely bare above geta'd feet. 

Then a face peeped out from behind the machinery. It had grey eyes, a scruffy beard, and the kind of smile Yuzu first recalled seeing on dodgy salesmen at Karakura's street market. She'd seen it a lot since coming to Seireitei and didn't trust it any more here than she had at home. 

"Bad time?" the man asked, his gaze firmly on Soifon. He was starting to look familiar, though Yuzu had no idea where she might have seen him before.

Soifon grimaced and slid her sword back into its sheath. "Not at all," she replied, through gritted teeth.

"Excellent!" The man pottered into the room and placed the machine down on the table, beaming at Yuzu as he did so. "For a moment there I thought I'd come at a bad time, then I thought, no, Yuzu-chan's a guest here. Soifon would never forget that and treat her without the proper respect."

Fury darkened Soifon's cheeks at the implied insult and she levelled a poisonous glare at the man. "Might I remind you, 'sir', that this is onmitsukidō business. Strictly speaking the 2nd has no authority here." She paused for the briefest moment before snarling, "Also, you have forgotten your captain's haori. Again."

"I have?" The man blinked bemusedly at Soifon, then down at himself. "You're right! I have." He shrugged and turned back to the machine, unhooking some kind of a wand from the side. "Never mind, I'm sure we'll manage perfectly fine without it." With a flourish, he flicked a switch. Several dials sprang to life, a couple of lights flashed and then the whole thing started emitting a piercing whine. 

Yuzu flinched, covering her ears with her hands as the captain yelped and jabbed repeatedly at a keyboard, one from a piano rather than a computer. 

This was the great and terrifying Urahara-taichō of the 2nd division, a scientist supposedly on a par with Kurotsuchi and Aizen? Yuzu had met both of them. They were serious men, with immense presence and dignity and, in Kurotsuchi-taichō's case, an air of totally casual ruthlessness. This man didn't seem responsible enough to be a seated officer, let alone command a whole division. 

"Don't panic! It's an easy fix!" he was yelling. The smoke pouring from the back of the machine suggested otherwise.

A muscle jumped along Soifon's tightly clamped jaw. "Why-?" she shouted after a moment. The noise cut out as suddenly as it had started, and all of them took a second to appreciate the silence before Soifon continued at a more normal volume, "Why exactly are you here, sir?" 

Urahara waved a hand to disperse the smoke, coughed a little and said, "To analyse our guest's reiryoku, of course. After all, we can hardly go around accusing her of using it to attack people and then have its substance prove totally different to the poison." He let out a quiet snicker and got back to his dials. "Think how embarrassing that would be to explain to the other True First clan members." 

Some of the colour drained from Soifon's flushed face. "It might not be Quincy?" she asked.

"Ah, I didn't say that," the captain replied, his eyes once more fixed on the machine, which gave out a desultory beep. "That's better." He stood up, brandishing the wand. "Now then, shall we begin?" he said to Yuzu.

She looked at the wand doubtfully. "Are you sure it's safe?"

His eyes flicked to the wand and back again and his face fell. "I built it." 

Yuzu glanced at Soifon, who huffed, "Unlike some of Kurotsuchi's efforts, it probably won't turn you into a puddle of sludge." Her brows pulled down into a deep frown. "Beyond that, I wouldn't like to say."

Urahara's sunny smile reappeared. "What a lovely thing to say, Soi-chan. Perhaps we can be best friends after all."

A sound something like a cat being strangled seeped from between Soifon's lips. She spun on her heel and stalked towards the door. "I have some things I need to do. Let the guard know when you're done."

As the door slammed closed behind her, the foolishness fell from Urahara's face like snow from a mountainside and an entirely different man turned to face Yuzu. "That's better," he said, his voice coldly efficient. "Now to see how much has changed since I examined you last."

*

How long would it be before Soifon came back to question her again? Not long, now that the examination was over, Yuzu hoped. It was freezing in the cell, especially without her warm winter coat. Sniffing back tears, she rubbed her nose on the back of her hand and, in lieu of any other way of drying it, wiped it on her leg. It left a chill smear on the cloth and she shivered, tucking her hands back between her thighs. At least her toes were warm, -ish, since she was sitting on them.

She sniffed again, tugging the yukata that Urahara had given her closed a little more firmly. 

It hadn't been so bad, had it?

Her gaze drifted briefly to the wooden bucket in the corner. For a sample, he'd said, and she flushed with remembered humiliation at having to use it in front of Urahara, and in full view of the door with the guard outside. 

The door slammed open and this time Yuzu managed to only jump and not scream. She was expecting Soifon, but instead it was the shinigami who'd escorted her up here who entered, the one in the purple half-frame glasses. Kibune, Soifon had called him. Without saying a word, he strode over, grabbed Yuzu by the arm and yanked her to her feet.

"Ow," she squeaked, hopping along behind him as he dragged her out of the room and along the corridor. "Not so fast. Please. I don't - ow - I don't have shoes!"

He stopped, glaring down at her bare feet. "What happened to them?" he demanded, then seemed to notice the rest of her clothes too. "And your coat. Trousers." He huffed loudly, pushing his glasses back up his nose in a way that reminded Yuzu strongly of cousin Uryū. "Did the lieutenant strip you or something?"

Yuzu tugged the top of the yukata closed again. "Actually, it was Urahara-taichō. He needed to examine me."

Kibune snorted and set off again, though more slowly this time, giving her the chance to choose where she put her feet. "That explains it then. That pervert's never been able to keep his hands off the kids."

Except, he hadn't hurt her. And there hadn't been anything perverted about the examination either. Honestly, Yuzu had had worse in the past, except… Well, maybe she'd been lucky before, but those doctors had always been nice, kind. They'd talked to her like she was a person, not a vaguely interesting research project. And that was all she was to Urahara, that much had been obvious.

So why did Kibune think there was more to it?

They'd reached the steps down again and once more, in the far distance, Yuzu could hear the thwack of cane on flesh. Just like last time, her feet stopped moving.

"Oh, for goodness sake, now what," Kibune snapped. "Do I have to carry you?" Without waiting for an answer, he scooped her up, slung her over his shoulder and started down the stairs. 

For a moment, in her panic, Yuzu almost started squirming, then she remembered the steepness of the steps and the chill hardness of the stone and instead grabbed onto the back of Kibune's shihakushō. Still, with every step he took, the sounds grew louder, and along with them, cries of agony. Tears fell again. Yuzu pressed her face to Kibune's back and tried to hide them. She was so fed up with crying. It felt like she did nothing but cry. She was so useless, so pathetic. If Soifon put her in the room where Tsukishima was being beaten, it wouldn't take long for Yuzu to crack and tell her everything, she knew it wouldn't. Even if it put her family in danger, Yuzu couldn't bear to see someone near her being hurt without doing everything in her power to stop it from happening.

The cries of pain grew louder. Kibune stopped walking, then came the creaking sound of door being opened followed by Kibune saying, "I brought her."

An incoherent snarl was the only answer. Something grabbed the back of Yuzu's yukata, yanked her from Kibune's shoulder and slung her across the room. She hit the wall, her head cracking against it hard enough to make her scream. Still screaming, she slid to the floor, her legs collapsing as pain radiated through her. Bile rose in her throat, and this time there was no stopping the urge to puke. She choked, thrashing onto her side, her limbs feeling weak and strange. Something wet dribbled from her nose and she tasted copper. Blood.

Someone was yelling. Someone else shouting back, their voice hoarse and croaky. She wanted to tell them to stop, that it was hurting her head, but she couldn't think, couldn't control any part of herself enough to even try. She clawed at the floor, still retching, her face sticky, mouth foul. Her eyes flickered opened and she caught glimpses of shapes, dark on light, people moving. Kibune; she recognised the glasses; and the crossed poles still in the centre of the room. There was someone tied to them, she could see them and someone was crying out, weakly now, and the thwack thwack of the cane as it rose and fell, rose and fell. Blood pattered to the floor, the man's arms dripped with it. His shaved head lolled. This wasn't a punishment beating any longer, it was an execution.

He was going to die. Tsukishima-sensei was going to die! She had to save him!

She tried to move, and only succeeded in making herself retch yet again. Desperation drove her to try again, and again, struggling against the strange languor spreading through her body, turning her limbs to lead. Unconsciousness or death, she didn't know, and found that she hardly even cared. If she wasn't here, then at least she couldn't hurt her family or fail her teacher any longer. 

As darkness began to close in, the man wielding the cane moved into view. Only, it was a different one from before. This one was naked, his back and legs covered in half-healed welts and, as he thrashed the body on the poles, the cane lifting high above his head, long dark hair whipped around him in a way Yuzu recognised. The voice too was familiar, though hoarse and strained as it snarled obscenities.

It was Tsukishima-sensei. Which meant he hadn't needed her help at all.

Feeling almost grateful for the chance to finally escape, Yuzu breathed out and let the world drift away.

*

A cool hand pressed to her forehead. Someone was crouching beside her, a faint green glow around his hands. Healing kidō. The pain in Yuzu's head receded enough to let her think slightly straighter, which was when she finally recognised the person beside her.

"Tsukishima-sensei!" She hadn't dreamt it. He _was_ free! Tears, this time of utter joy, sprang to Yuzu's eyes. 

"You," Tsukishima said, and his voice was husky raw, "are a very stupid girl."

"I know! I'm so sorry, sensei. I honestly thought you meant me to leave with Karin and Sado-san." Self-disgust trumped happiness and Yuzu's gut roiled at the pain she'd caused her beloved teacher. How would he ever forgive her?

"That's what Kibune said. You were actually supposed to delay them so that all of you could be brought here." Tsukishima sat stiffly back on his heels, the glow fading from his hands. "How does your head feel?"

Yuzu shook it slightly and had to bite back a wince. It still hurt, though nothing like before. She'd honestly thought she was going to die. Oh, but her hurts were nothing. "I'm fine! But what about you?" Tsukishima was wearing clothes again, a white shitagi and hakama that were torn and fit him badly. The bruises were fading from his face too, and he looked like he might have washed. Still, that wasn't Yuzu's only worry. "That horrible man with the skull face that was beating you, he-"

Tsukishima moved aside slightly and behind him, Yuzu saw the crossed poles. A body still hung from them, and now she wasn't half-unconscious, she realised it was the skull-faced man. That was about the only part of him that was still recognisably human though. The rest more resembled the meat counter of a very bad butchers.

With a gulping retch, Yuzu lurched sidewards and threw up what little remained in her stomach. She kept retching, her stomach sending agonising jolts through the rest of her, enough to make her whimper and groan. The cool hand returned, stroking her hair back from her face and she pressed into the touch, welcoming it for what it was, her sensei showing how much he cared, and when Tsukishima tugged gently on her arm, she went to him easily, curling into his lap and letting her eyes slide closed. 

For a long moment, there was silence and then Tsukishima said, conversationally, "You know, if you'd actually done as you were told, the clan-heads would be dead by now, the 2nd would be mine and you and your sister would be safely stashed in Muken." He sighed. "At least we're still getting the fight we planned for."

"Yours?" Yuzu murmured tiredly, latching onto the only part of the sentence that had made any sense to her exhausted brain.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Onmitsukidō are proving more troublesome than we'd hoped, so we moved them up the priority list. If you'd come here like you were supposed to, I would have had the perfect excuse to visit and make my move." His fingers tip-toed up her neck to just under her hair. " But what I'd really like to know is who told them I was behind the attack on the clan-heads. Was it you, Yuzu-chan?"

"No!" Yuzu protested, struggling upright so she could see her sensei's pale and drawn face. "I would never tell such a terrible lie about you. It was my idea. All my idea."

Tsukishima-sensei grimaced before tugging her back down again. "Of course it was. And I forgive you for it, as I'm sure your brother does too."

He might being saying that he forgave her, but his words were shot-through with annoyance. Yuzu pressed her face to the cool silk of his hakama. "I'm so sorry, sensei. I didn't mean to mess everything up for you. I'm stupid and useless."

He didn't answer though his touch turned gentler. Yuzu began to drift, memories rolling back over the day's events until she remembered Take. Her fingers tightened in the cloth as she bit back a little sob. That was all her fault too. She brought nothing but ruin down on everyone with her foolishness. 

But perhaps there was one way she could redeem herself and make something good come out of her terrible mistake. Pushing upright, she said, "I forgot to tell you, sensei, there were these people in Rukongai. You have to help them. They're stuck out there all alone with no homes and no-one to keep them safe."

"People?" Tsukishima-sensei looked at her sceptically. "You mean villagers."

"No, they had spiritual power. Or, at least, some of them had to because one was a healer, though she only had one arm, and another one used to be a negator." And, okay, as far as she understood it, negators didn't have reiryoku as such, but surely they had something like it. "They live in this big cave, like an underground island, with tents and-"

"A one-armed healer, you say." Tsukishima was looking at her with more interest now. "You didn't happen to catch a name, did you?"

"Isane," Yuzu replied firmly. "And the negator's name was Hiyori and she was the one who made Isane's arm. And there's a boy there too…"

But Tsukishima wasn't listening. With a not so gentle shove, he pushed Yuzu off his lap and stood up. His face was blank. Only it wasn't a nice blank, it was a scary one. Yuzu's description of Shige fell into silence as she watched Tsukishima begin to pace. He was rubbing his fingers against his thumb, like he was missing something from his hand, and his lips were moving, like he was speaking under his breath. Yuzu pressed her back against the wall and stayed quiet.

It felt like an age before footsteps sounded in the corridor. Tsukishima jerked to attention, grabbed the cane in one hand, and pressed up against the wall beside the door. Hiding, Yuzu realised, from whoever might be coming in.

"It's me," Kibune's voice came quietly, just before the door pulled back. 

Tsukishima stepped forward urgently to meet him. "Where is it?" he demanded.

From his shihakushō, Kibune took a small cloth-wrapped parcel that he held it out to Tsukishima, who grabbed it, tearing the cloth off in his haste to get at whatever was inside. When it was finally revealed, he let out a relieved sigh, though why Yuzu couldn't understand. As far as she could see, all it was was a small white bookmark with a black tassel on the end. 

Tsukishima though seemed to feel differently. One hand caressed the bookmark, looking like he was communing with it somehow and then he glanced up, eyes sharp. "We need to get her here. Can you do that?"

"With pleasure," Kibune replied. "Though it would be easier if we could get you back to the holding cell."

Tsukishima paused for a second before dismissing the idea, "It's not worth it. There's too many chances for this to go wrong between here and there."

"Then here it has to be," Kibune said. His eyes lit behind his glasses. "For the right price, I may even be able to get her to come alone. The commander's on the warpath about extra security for the arena tomorrow. She's got everyone jumping to."

"And the new captain?"

Kibune snorted. "Locked away in his lab, of course. He's the last person you need to worry about."

That wasn't true at all, Yuzu suspected, though Tsukishima seemed to take Kibune at his word. His gaze turned calculated. "If you manage to pull this off, I'll increase your stake by one percent," he hesitated and corrected himself, "No, two if you manage it without incident. It's about time you got the recognition you deserve." 

Kibune preened under the compliment, running long fingers through his hair, and Yuzu was hit by a stab of jealousy. Tsukishima-sensei had never said anything like that to her, nor would he. She was a useless waste of space, only good for crying and holding people back.

"Anyway, for now, go find Soifon and get her down here." A vicious smile curved Tsukishima's lips and he fingered the bookmark, which morphed suddenly into a sword in his hands. "It's about time the lieutenant and I had a nice little chat."

*

Tsukishima insisted that she sit opposite the door. He also pulled open the front of her yukata and, although Yuzu tried to tell him no, dragged the body of the skullman off the poles to lie at her feet. And though he didn't explain the why of what he was doing, Yuzu wasn't stupid. She'd been listening to their conversation about Soifon-fukutaichō, and knew that she was to be the distraction.

"There," Tsukishima said finally, regarding her critically with a cock of his head. "Young noblewoman despoiled by despicable gaki. Just make sure you scream convincingly when she comes in. That shouldn't be too hard." A last minute fumble with her yukata, which Yuzu righted the moment he moved away, and they were done. Tsukishima took a place beside the door, the same way he had when Kibune had arrived earlier, and they began their wait. 

It seemed to take forever. Yuzu had no way to measure time beyond the shivers that continuously ran through her. She tried shifting once, earning herself a poisonous glare from Tsukishima, and didn't dare do it again. Eventually, though, footsteps came in the corridor. One set, scuffed, and a voice saying, "I genuinely believe it's a confession, lieutenant, but I'm not sure he'll speak to you. He was quite insistent that I bring the commander-"

"Yoruichi-sama is busy," came Soifon's snapped reply. "Now open up and then go report in like I told you to."

The door drew back. Yuzu just had time to glimpse Kibune dipping a bow before Soifon sprang into the room. She must have suspected something. When Tsukishima lunged, sword out, she parried easily, her whole body then seeming to bend in half as she kicked up with both feet, catching Tsukishima in wrist and head. He dropped, and the sword spun high into the air. Yuzu squeaked and dodged as it clattered to the floor beside her. Tsukishima scrambled towards it. Desperately, Yuzu poked at it with her foot, hoping to nudge it towards him. Instead, it got caught on skullman's body and when Tsukishima grabbed it, it refused to come free. 

Behind him, Soifon was coming again, her speed so fast that Yuzu could hardly track her. Her sword was gone, and in her hand was what looked like some kind of fancy dagger, all gold and black and sticking like a spike from her finger. She stabbed down. Tsukishima screamed, yanked his sword free and rolled clear, just as she stabbed again. 

This time Yuzu saw it hit, full in Tsukishima's chest and a black mark bloomed across his shitagi. The dagger flashed a third time, heading for the very same spot, and that would be bad. Very very bad, because Soifon's shikai was a deadly poison that killed instantly with twin strikes. And that was Tsukishima-sensei, her friend, her teacher. The most important person in the world to her. 

With a yell, Yuzu threw herself forward, catching Soifon in the thighs. The woman hardly moved, but the dagger must have missed because a heartbeat later, Tsukishima's blade whooshed past Yuzu's ear and bit deep into Soifon's side.

Blood gushed from the wound, spattering onto Yuzu's face and arms, but Soifon still lunged, aiming yet again for Tsukishima's chest and its double pattern of butterfly wings. But before it could hit, Soifon screamed, her eyes rolling back in her head as she collapsed. 

Tsukishima scrambled clear from beneath her, his breath coming in desperate heaving gasps. "Crap," he croaked, leaning with his hands braced on his knees, his sword dangling, staring at the woman now unconscious on the floor. "That was far too close."

"Are you alright?" said Kibune, over near the door. His face was chalk white. "I would have helped except…"

Tsukishima gave him the side-eye. "You thought she might win and didn't want to get yourself into even more trouble?"

Colour flushed Kibune's cheeks, but he didn't bother to deny it. Hurrying into the room, he closed the door, saying, "That scream might have attracted guards. Can you wake her up?"

"In a moment." Rich brown eyes turned to Yuzu. "That was very brave of you," Tsukishima said, a smile like nothing Yuzu had ever seen lighting his face. He held out a hand to her. "Thank you, my dear. I think your actions there just cancelled out your previous mistake."

Bursting with pride, Yuzu took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. All she wanted to do was dance with joy, but she couldn't, because Tsukishima-sensei was wrong. She hadn't made up for her cowardice at all, not when it had resulted in Tsukishima being imprisoned and tortured, but maybe she'd started to pay it off, just a little. 

Still, she didn't object when he used the corner of his shitagi to wipe the blood from her face. Soifon's blood, from the injury she'd sustained.

Yuzu looked down. As they'd been speaking, blood had continued to pool steadily beneath Soifon's side. Not enough to be dangerous, for a lieutenant, anyway. Yuzu well knew that high ranking shinigami could withstand incredible injuries and still recover quite easily. It was their spiritual energy. It kept their hearts beating long after any less powerful soul's would have shut down.

Even so, it went against the grain to watch it happening. Tearing her gaze from Tsukishima's, she knelt back beside Soifon and peeled the cloth away from the edges of the wound. It was deep, and damaging, she suspected, catching a glimpse of semi-digested matter that should never be outside of the gut. 

"This needs cleaning and healing," she said, looking up at Tsukishima. He grimaced, his green glowing hands pressed to his own belly. Of course, he'd been injured too! How could she have forgotten? And how could she have put worrying about Soifon first? This was why she was such a useless student, and a worse friend. She always forgot those who should be most important to her.

Kibune made a disgusted sound. Yuzu glanced up at him, to see him staring down at Soifon's injury with revolted fascination. "Did you have to cut the bitch so deep?" he asked. "Or even damage her at all. I thought you could do your thing without wounding people?"

"You might have noticed, I was in a bit of a hurry," Tsukishima said with a pained grunt. He was trying to reach behind himself, presumably to heal the injury on his back. "Damn it," he cursed finally, the green fading from around his hands. "There's no way I can get that one myself." He glanced at Kibune. "There must be another healer around here somewhere, if only some hack who can keep your torture victims alive."

Without speaking, Kibune stared pointedly at the remains of skullman, and Tsukishima cursed again, his expression revolted. "If he was, then the bastard was a disgrace to his profession. What sort of healer deliberately hurts people."

It wasn't exactly a question, but Kibune answered anyway. "Aren't you the one who just stabbed someone in the side because he was, and I quote, 'in a hurry'?" he said. 

Tsukishima snarled, his face twisting into a deep scowl as his hand tightened on his sword. "What did you just say?"

Blanching, Kibune took a step back, hands up as if to belay an attack. "An action which, under the circumstances, was entirely justified." He glanced over at the door. "Let me see who I can drum up. There's a couple of juniors who've been studying under Yamada. They might not be completely useless."

"You do that," Tsukishima suggested, keeping his gaze on Kibune until the man sidled out of the room and closed the door behind him. Once the sound of footsteps had faded, he staggered, colliding with the wall and sliding down it. He looked pale and sweat beaded on his top lip. "I swear," he muttered, letting his sword rest on the floor beside him, "if that man wasn't so useful, I would have taken his head off his shoulders years ago." 

Yuzu's heart leapt a little at the comment. She didn't like Kibune. The things he'd said were shallow sounding and cruel, and Tsukishima had had to bribe him to get him to help them. Hearing that Tsukishima felt the same way was so good. Maybe she wouldn't have to be friends with the man after all.

"Would you like me to look at your injury, sensei?" she asked. "I know I can't heal it, but I could maybe put on a dressing…" Her words faded as she realised Tsukishima was giving her a sceptical look. "I guess not," she finished, her gaze dropping. There in front of her was Soifon, still bleeding heavily, and Yuzu couldn't even do anything to help her. There was no clean water in the cell to wash the wound, nor cloths to bind it. "I'm useless," she sighed sitting back on her heels.

"Not entirely," Tsukishima replied. He shifted slightly, grimacing like maybe it hurt. Yuzu guessed that it probably did. The front of his shitagi still showed two black butterfly patterns, overlapping and scarily close together. He shifted again, this time managing to prop himself up properly. "Sit there and be my hands for me when I wake her up."

Yuzu had no time to get ready. Soifon stirred immediately, her brows drawing down into a deep frown. Then her eyes flew open and she started, trying to rise before the pain of her injury caught up with her. She grimaced, her lips tightening. "Where is he?" she asked, her voice threaded through with a note of desperation. "Sensei. Did I hurt him?"

"A little," Tsukishima replied. "Nothing that won't heal, once you remove these."

Expression pained, Soifon continued to struggle upright, obviously intent on seeing for herself. Yuzu reached out to help, supporting Soifon's surprisingly slight weight as she turned. It was obvious when she did see him because the flinch travelled right through her. "Tsukishima-sensei, I apologise wholeheartedly for attacking you in such a dishonourable fashion. Please, tell me what I can do to make amends." She inclined her body slightly, like she was trying to bow, which was ridiculous and yet made Yuzu love her a little bit because finally here was someone who understood that Tsukishima-sensei deserved to be respected.

"Well," Tsukishima looked down at the butterfly marks on his chest, "For a start, you can get rid of these."

"Absolutely, immediately!" Soifon raised her hand and the butterflies vanished. A delicate flush appeared on her cheeks as she continued, "Sensei, I- I don't know even why they were still there. My training-"

"I understand completely," Tsukishima said, waving her apology away. "You're trained to hold the effects of your shikai even when you lose consciousness. It makes complete sense. I'm just glad to discover that such a close friend is so well trained. I would trust you to have my back anytime, Soifon."

From anyone else, that kind of familiarity would have earned them instant retaliation, Yuzu was sure. But Tsukishima-sensei was different. When he called you his friend, it was a privilege, not an imposition. She couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't be overjoyed to hear it of themselves. Soifon definitely looked pleased.

"Next," Tsukishima continued, "I'd like you to work on getting me released." He paused and gave Soifon's injury a thoughtful look. "Though I should probably heal your side for you first."

"It will be fine, sensei, honestly," Soifon replied, raising her arm as if to prove that it was. 

She did her best to hold back the wince but Yuzu felt it. Tsukishima must have seen it too, since he gave Soifon a pitying look. "Now, now, there's no need to play the martyr. Come here and let me see, and while I work, we can talk conspiracy theories. Kotetsu Isane, for instance. Did you ever meet her when she was at the 4th?"

"I did," Soifon replied, shuffling closer and pulling aside the cloth to reveal her wound. "Though it's hardly an interesting point of conversation. The case was concluded over two decades ago."

"Humour me," Tsukishima said, his hands beginning to glow green again as they moved over the injury.

Soifon's jaw tightened, from the healing, Yuzu presumed, but she continued, "She attacked the Kasumiōgi compound, an unforgivable act of violence by a commoner on a noble family that should have resulted in her public execution. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived to arrest her, the Kenpachi had already dealt with the matter herself, having removed Kotetsu's right arm and dismissed her from the Gotei. Since there was no sign of her on the surrounding streets and no body turned up later, it was assumed that she was taken by the 12th. In short, she was a traitor who got her just deserts."

"A pretty tale, if it was true," Tsukishima said, with a smile.

Soifon's head jerked up and she narrowed her eyes at Tsukishima. "And what exactly do you mean by that, sensei?"

"Only that a little bird told me that Kotetsu Isane is very much alive and holed up with a group of traitors out in Rukongai."

"Impossible," Soifon said dismissively. "To live out there, they would need support from someone inside Seireitei, and if that was happening, we would know about it."

"Like you did the attack on the clan-heads, you mean?" Tsukishima asked, sitting back as the glow around his hands faded.

Yuzu held her breath as that information sank in. A moment later, Soifon said slowly, "Are you suggesting that the person behind that attack is the same one responsible for these traitors in Rukongai?"

Tsukishima shrugged slightly. "I wouldn't dare tell a member of onmitsukidō what to think, but it's possible, isn't it?"

"Not only possible, it's likely." Soifon rose gracefully to her feet. "What district are they in, did your little bird tell you that?"

"Ah," Tsukishima's gaze darted to Yuzu. "Not yet. But you could ask her yourself."

Yuzu cringed as Soifon's cold gaze homed in on her. "It was you who gave him this information?" she demanded. "Why didn't you say so before? I knew you were protecting someone."

Yuzu hesitated. 

"Come on, Yuzu, tell Soifon what you told me."

"But…" Yuzu said, looking to Tsukishima in the hopes he'd see the reluctance in her eyes. She didn't want to tell on Shige and Hyori, not when Soifon called them traitors and criminals. They were her friends. She'd only told Tsukishima so that he could help them.

It was like he read her thoughts. He smiled, that warm understanding smile and said, "Don't worry. I'll make sure nothing happens to them. Remember, Soifon's a friend of ours now. You can tell her anything."


	17. Babe, I Got Yo Flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we get to the Ichigo vs Zaraki fight. Ah, I'm ridiculously fond of Zaraki with his stupid OPness and odd sense of fair play, so I'm just hoping I've done all that justice. As well as Ichigo's equally ridiculous ability to develop power-ups on the spot, of course.

Ichigo spent much of his day-off eating. Whether it had been Yoruichi's idea or just standard practice for those heading for the challenge arena, he didn't know, but the flow of food into his cell was almost constant. Meat, fish, vegetables. Rice in every shape and form and in marathon quantities, Ichigo ate as much as he physically could, remembering how close he'd come to total collapse that night at the 6th in front of Unohana. The rest of the time he spent sitting jinzen. 

Ossan dragged himself away from his ongoing battle with Tsukishima's brain fog to spar for a while, but soon it was just Ichigo and Zangetsu. The hollow was unusually subdued, which Ichigo chalked up to their argument the day before, and since neither of them brought up the incident with Hisagi again, they trained in silence, both ignoring the elephant in the room. There'd be time to deal with it afterwards, Ichigo reckoned. And if there wasn't, well, he'd be dead anyway, so it wouldn't matter.

Sleep that night came surprisingly easily and, if he did dream, Ichigo didn't remember. He awoke with the sun, dressed in the brand new shihakushō the guards provided for him, and faced the day feeling refreshed, fit and raring to go. He was nervous, sure, but only enough to bring that sense of heightened awareness. And there was no point in being scared. If he couldn't beat Zaraki after the preparations he'd done, then it simply wasn't meant to be. 

His good mood lasted right up until he found Kurotsuchi Mayuri waiting for him outside the main entrance to the Senzaikyū. The creep had changed his style yet again. Gone was the demented Pharaoh look. Now it was more sun god with a headdress that reached all the way down his back. It kind of reminded Ichigo of the thing some Christian nuns wore to cover their hair, except this one was gold and no nun Ichigo had ever seen painted her face with black and white stripes.

Behind Kurotsuchi on the bridge, eyes down and hands clasped in front of her, stood a slight girl in the cut-off shihakushō who Ichigo remembered from the basement of the 12th when she'd tried to blow him and Renji up. She had to be Nemu, he guessed, the fake soul Kurotsuchi had constructed and then appointed as his lieutenant. 

Taking one look at the pair of them, Ichigo spun on his heel and headed straight back into the Senzaikyū. His escort immediately slammed their sasumata down in front of him, the long poles blocking his way, which kind of screwed up that idea, so Ichigo sighed heavily and turned back. Kurotsuchi, the painted freak, was smirking at him like it was the funniest thing he'd seen all day and, considering what he'd done to Ryūken and Uryū, not to mention Renji, Ichigo reckoned he'd be well within his rights to rip the smug fuck's face off. Instead, he parcelled up his anger and disgust, tucked it away inside where he could use it later against Zaraki, and said, "What the hell do you want?"

"It's more a matter of what you need." An obscenely long fingernail waved menacingly in the direction of Ichigo's throat. "Do you want to fight the barbarian with that on?"

Ichigo's hand flew to his neck. Damn it! He'd been wearing the limiter for so long, he'd forgotten it was there. "I guess, no?" he said, still hanging back, because getting within touching range of Kurotsuchi Mayuri just seemed like a really bad idea. 

"Then come here, you fool!" Kurotsuchi snapped, making hungry little grasping movements with his fingers. "This is no time for you to have girlish vapours."

And, Ichigo suspected, if he didn't co-operate, Kurotsuchi just might send him into the arena with the limiter still on. With a wary glance at the fake lieutenant, Ichigo took a step forward, and then another, just enough to bring him within range of Kurotsuchi's long skinny arms. They shot out like a spider's claws, grasping the front of his shihakushō and dragging him in, nose to nose with Kurotsuchi. Painted black lips drew back over yellow teeth in a parody of a smile and it was all Ichigo could do not to punch it.

"Get the hell off me," Ichigo snarled.

Kurotsuchi simply sneered, grabbed Ichigo's hair and jerked his head to one side. The collar. Right. Ichigo ground his teeth together to stop from ripping Kurotsuchi's hands off at the wrists and wished he had Zangetsu, or any weapon really. But no, getting his zanpakutō had to wait till he reached the arena, apparently. 

A moment later there was a click and suddenly Ichigo's reiatsu was free. It surged from his body in a blast that, going by the twin thumps from behind, must have flattened the two guards on the Senzaikyū's door. His escort kept their feet, obviously made of sterner stuff, and Kurotsuchi didn't even flinch. With a single tug, the 12th's captain pulled the collar from Ichigo's neck - which was when Nemu smacked Ichigo hard in the ear.

Instinct born of a thousand training sessions made him retaliate. His fist whooshed past her chin, her foot past his, then she was tumbling backwards, pushing off one of the flag poles and landing gracefully back exactly where she'd started. As she stood, something dove into Ichigo's ear canal. He bellowed, in surprise mostly. It didn't hurt, it just… wriggled? "What the fuck did you do!" he demanded, trying to shove fingers into a hole way too small for fingers to go. When that didn't work, he tipped his head to one side and thumped it a bit. Anything to try and get whatever-it-was out, because wriggling! In his ear!

"Stop screaming, you fool, it's merely a transmitter." Kurotsuchi, the coward, had retreated well out of arm's reach. It was like he expected Ichigo to attack him or something.

"Transmitter for what?" Ichigo demanded, giving up digging and working his jaw as the thing settled into place. At least it didn't seem to be working its way in any further. And a transmitter didn't sound so bad, like maybe a radio or something. Not that he was ready to forgive and forget just yet.

Kurotsuchi was giving him an exasperated look as though Ichigo should already know the answer. "To ensure you do not cheat in the arena, of course. Any indication that you activate your Quincy abilities and the transmitter will be activated, injecting a drug into your brain that will render you completely helpless." 

And there was the anger he'd been missing. "What?!" Ichigo roared, advancing up the bridge. Of all the sneaky, underhand…

But before he could reach Kurotsuchi to beat his nasty face in, Nemu was suddenly in front of him, obviously ready to fight. For a brief second Ichigo hesitated, until he remembered exactly who had stuck the damned transmitter in his ear in the first place. That was enough to push him forward again, more than prepared to take her out on the way to her creator. 

He never got the chance. Kurotsuchi backhanded her so hard that she dropped to her knees with a sharp cry. It went against everything Ichigo had been taught while growing up not to leap to her defence. Only the lessons Renji had beaten into him about women being shinigami too and 'seriously Ichigo, it's gonna get you killed if you don't quit falling for the damsel in distress routine', stopped him. Whatever it might look like on the surface, this was a captain and his lieutenant, and if he wanted to smack her around, it seriously was none of Ichigo's business. Which yet again proved just how totally fucked up this whole shithole was.

"Idiot," Kurotsuchi was snarling, standing over Nemu and glaring down at her. "Haven't I instructed you never to get in front of me unless I order you to!"

Nemu had stayed on her hands and knees. Now she looked up at her captain. "My apologies, Mayuri-sama. I was only trying to prevent an illegal fight between captains."

Kurotsuchi looked away, his tone vicious as he spat in disgust, "Ridiculous constraint. And a preposterous presumption to impose it. On me. On one of _my_ creations. One of these days-" His teeth snapped shut with a clack, though his eyes still burned when he turned his attention back on Ichigo. "If you have a problem with the transmitter, take it up with the sōtaichō." He paused, visibly composing himself before adding, "That is, unless you want to come to some other arrangement?" 

A deal? With Kurotsuchi? Ichigo would rather take his chances with Urahara. Clamping his jaw closed around the instinct to kill with extreme prejudice, Ichigo ground out, "We done here? 'Cause I've got a challenge to fight, and it might not be with you right now but any more of your bullshit and that's gonna change." 

Kurotsuchi's smile was back, as creepy as fuck and just as smug. With the slightest of head inclinations, he stepped aside. 

Head up and eyes forward, Ichigo strode past him, his escort falling in behind. As they drew level with the other captain, Kurotsuchi said, "I considered making it a kill switch, but I'd rather you were breathing afterwards. Live bait is so much more effective, I find."

Bait? It had to be for Karin; Kurotsuchi had been after her since they first set foot in Seireitei. Not that it changed Ichigo's mind. Still, he did murmur a worried, "Ossan?" just in case he was missing something important. After all, this was the creep who'd drugged Byakuya before he even got on the field by spiking the silk used to sew up his wounds.

 _I perceive nothing damaging about the transmitter in its current state,_ the answer came back immediately, _And if he proves to be lying there are some measures either myself or Zangetsu could take to protect you. In the meantime, we had already planned against you using your Quincy abilities during the bout. This will simply add another layer of disincentive._

*

The escort stopped Ichigo in the lists. The freshly-raked sands of the arena stretched out in front of them, the perimeter edged by a line of black-clad onmitsukidō, interspersed here and there with white-robed kidō corps. They were the ones responsible for conjuring the barrier once the combatants took the field, and for keeping it up while they fought. Not exactly an easy job when Zaraki was one half of the boots on the ground. His reiatsu was something else, even while he was just walking around.

Ichigo had never seen him fight properly, not even in the challenge arena. He was a lieutenant, and it turned out that bouts like the one Byakuya had fought for Ichigo and his sisters were unusual. Most of the time, the place was only used by the lower ranks, functioning as a kind of joint civil law court/exhibition space where shinigami could strut their stuff in public in the hopes of drumming up business. On that level, even Ichigo had to admit that it worked. When one of their unseated had challenged to settle a gambling debt she couldn't pay, she'd not only come away with her money, but with a boost to her reputation as well. Her kidō skills had definitely drawn Renji's attention to her as a possible promotion candidate. 

Of course, that only worked if you had the strength to fight yourself, or the money to buy someone to fight for you. If you didn't, you were screwed. Tōsen was right about that. The system ran straight over the top of anyone weak or poor.

Normally, the stands around the arena were half empty. Today, it was standing room only and the crowd were in full voice. The sound was deafening, and the whole area was awash with black, with only the odd splash of colour to show where nobility had set up little enclaves amongst the gathered shinigami. Officers were doing their best to keep the divisions apart, but, as Ichigo watched, shoving matches were already breaking out here and there as different units were forced together in the crowd.

Reiatsu washed around him like the ocean, full of depths and currents. Flavours too, Ichigo knew, though he'd only be able to taste it if he used his Quincy abilities, and with Kurotsuchi's transmitter in his ear, he wasn't dumb enough to try that. Closing his eyes, he let himself feel it, enjoying the novelty after a week of being unable to sense reiatsu at all, 

Someone was approaching from the right. Their reiatsu was a pale green, almost delicate in colour but with an undercurrent of something dark and venomous, and Ichigo wasn't at all surprised when he opened his eyes to find Ayasegawa Yumichika coming towards him. 

The 10th's new fukutaichō was something of a puzzle to Ichigo. On the surface, the guy appeared to be a sadist with a penchant for causing trouble, like when he'd tried to get Ichigo and Renji convicted for sedition, or having Rikichi mutilated and thrown out on the street for the 12th to pick up. But that couldn't be all there was to him, otherwise he wouldn't have stuck with Madarame for as long as he had. According to Renji, the pair had been together since the camps and, the Rikichi incident apart, they seemed to have won over the loyalty of the 10th in no time flat. 

Ayasegawa stopped a polite sword's-length plus a stride away and gave Ichigo the kind of lingering look that made him want to go take a shower afterwards. "My, aren't we looking tasty today," he said, one slender hand tucking his hair behind his ear. His other hand was resting on the hilt of his zanpakutō, a sword that absorbed a victim's reiatsu until they died and created flowers out of it that Ayasegawa could eat. So, was this killer flirting or flirting with an intent to kill?

For the life of him, Ichigo couldn't tell, so he just grunted and asked, "What do you want?" He'd been enjoying his moment of peace before the battle and now that was completely ruined.

"To give you some moral support, actually," Ayasegawa said. "Not that someone as ugly as you would appreciate such a beautiful gesture."

Flirting with an intent to kill then. "Moral support? From someone who cut off a kid's arm and chucked him out for Kurotsuchi to off," Ichigo shot back.

Ayasegawa raised a perfectly plucked and be-feathered brow. "You mean the Rikichi boy?" A smile curled the corners of lips that were just a hint too red to be natural. "Would it surprise you to know that it was him who came to me," he purred. "Apparently the old system at the 10th left a lot to be desired, but then you'd know all about that given your involvement with Rangiku-chan. And that nasty weasel you've gone and taken under your wing. You want to be careful of that one, Shiba. It'll do anything to save its own hide."

He was talking about Shin, who Ichigo had trusted to watch Kaien's son. And yes he did trust Shin, no matter what Ayasegawa was insinuating. Since he'd come into Ichigo's service, the ex-informant had been absolutely loyal.

Not wanting to listen to anymore of the fukutaichō's poison, Ichigo gave him a flat look. "Was that it? Any other little gems you'd like to share?"

Ayasegawa's eyes narrowed. "Actually, I was going to -" he began, only to stop speaking mid-sentence, gaze flicking to behind Ichigo's shoulder. "Never mind," he said quickly. Then, with a little wave, and no other explanation, he stepped into shunpo. 

Ichigo turned to see who'd sent him running off so fast. Soifon was heading towards him, several other 2nd division shinigami following along behind. But it was what she had in her hand that made Ichigo's heart lift. 

"Zangetsu," he said, taking a step towards her.

Soifon held out the sword. "Yoruichi-sama instructed me to give you this," she said, looking down her nose at him. 

Ichigo didn't even try to hide his joy. Handing his zanpakutō back over to Yoruichi at the dojo had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, even knowing that he'd get it back today. Silently, he took the black-sheathed katana, and carefully drew it. The fine blade practically glowed in the spring sunshine, as perfect as the day Ichigo had first sealed it, every chip and nock from the session with Hisagi, gone. Ordinary swords had to be ground down to remove any damage, but zanpakutō were different. They were living blades. So long as their wielder was alive and the connection between them strong, the blade would heal too. Sword maintenance meant something different to a shinigami.

With a thought, he released it to shikai, sharing Zangetsu's relief as their power spread to fill the extra space.

When he glanced up, Soifon was watching him, an attentive expression on her face. "Thanks," he said, meaning it wholeheartedly.

Soifon ignored him and held out something else. The windflower gloves. Ichigo took them with a heavy sense of inevitability. "Kyōraku," he said, and it wasn't even a question.

Soifon sniffed. "Kyōraku-taichō feels there may be a way for you to work around Kurotsuchi-taichō's technology and turn your Quincy abilities on the unsuspecting crowd. Yoruichi-sama did point out that, since you are perfectly capable of unsealing the gloves yourself, they presented little in the way of hindrance, however he insisted. She also charged me with informing you that his behaviour is becoming increasingly irrational and that, even if you win today, you should be careful of him." 

Irrational. Like someone was messing with his head, maybe? 

The thought sprang unbidden into Ichigo's mind and he froze, gloves half on, as the implications of it sank in. Kyōraku wasn't dumb enough to let Aizen anywhere near him again, Ichigo didn't think, but Tsukishima was a whole other ball game. That guy could sneak in where no one was expecting, and he had done, all over Seireitei, Ichigo was absolutely positive. 

And no one but Ichigo knew because, although he'd told Yoruichi about Tsukishima's confession, he'd not told her about his shikai. At the time, he hadn't wanted to sound like he was making excuses. Now, he felt like a fool for not saying anything.

Jerking on the windflower gloves, he said tersely, "Where is Yoruichi anyway?" It was probably a bit late to tell her, but better late than never, he guessed.

"The commander has other duties to attend to."

Which meant Ichigo's chances of getting to speak to her before the bout were non-existent. He gave Soifon a narrow look. She was lieutenant of the 2nd and Yoruichi's lover. She'd have to know whether or not Tsukishima had been picked up, wouldn't she? But, before he got a chance to ask, a roar went up from the crowd behind them. If Ichigo had thought the noise was loud before, it had been nothing compared to this. The ground shook with it. And it wasn't just noise, either. Reiatsu thundered out as well, though that came from only a single source at the far side of the lists. 

"The lieutenant is a favourite with the crowd," Soifon said as, around the arena, the mayhem took on a measured beat: 'Za-ra-ki! Za-ra-ki!' A thousand feet stamping in time with the chant. Ichigo swallowed, the nerves that had passed him by before now racing to the front of his mind, consuming everything that wasn't the upcoming battle. His breath caught as his heart hammered in his ears. This was Zaraki, the second best swordsman in Seireitei, student of the great Kenpachi. And Ichigo was going to fight him. 

Through the cacophony of cheers and chanting came the distinct sound of, 'Shi-ba! Shi-ba!' 

Soifon sniffed disapprovingly. "Though it appears you are not without your own supporters." She dipped a bow that was punctilious in its politeness, said, "I wish you good fortune in the arena, Shiba-taichō," and vanished in a step of shunpo.

*

The judge turned out to be Urahara's wizard sidekick, aka the Commander of the kidō corps and the guy who'd sealed Renji. Why he'd been chosen, Ichigo had no idea, except unlike some of the recently appointed Central 46 judges, he was probably strong enough to survive inside the barrier. Still, it was awkward, given that the last time they'd met, Ichigo had one-shotted him.

Heat rising in his cheeks, Ichigo greeted the guy with a polite nod, and tried not to feel self-conscious. Or small, which was impossible given the size of the other two men. Both were way taller than Renji, and broader too. Wizard-san was massive, he could have been a sumo wrestler with that build, and Zaraki… To be honest, he kind of reminded Ichigo of a zombie, all spare muscle laid over prominent bones, with stringy hair and tatty clothing. The eye-patch was more pirate though, he guessed. Homicidal zombie pirate? Yeah, that would do. A bored one too, apparently, since he currently had his finger stuck in his ear as he stared round the arena, yawning.

The wizard cleared his throat. Ichigo dragged his attention away from the opposition and gave the guy an attentive look. 

"You have a bid?" wizard-san asked, gravely.

"Oh right. Yeah." Way to forget what the hell he was here for. Blushing again, Ichigo held out his gloved hand. In the palm nestled the single kan Yoruichi had given him back at the dojo when she'd outlined the form of words he needed to use. "On my rank as captain and my clan Shiba, I bid against the challenge set down by the Gotei. In winning this bid, I will prove myself and my family innocent-" 

As he spoke, Ichigo was blindsided by a sudden flash of inspiration. This was his chance to do something about Ryūken and Uryū. Not a good chance, but not one he could afford to pass up either. Hastily revisiting his last sentence, he added, " _All those I call family_ , innocent and free citizens of Seireitei." There, he'd done it. It was a risk and basically just fiddling with the language, but if no one objected, he could use it to claim the right to bring his uncle and cousin into the clan properly, make them Shiba. He might even be able to get his dad freed, and Byakuya and Renji home, though he doubted anyone would go for either of those without a fight.

For a moment, the kidō commander said nothing, though his eyebrows rose slightly. Did he know what Ichigo was trying to do? He was a friend of Urahara's, so it was possible. Then that thick moustache twitched and the wizard nodded. "So be it," he said. He raised his chin. Sunlight glinted off his square glasses as he looked out over the arena, and when he spoke, his voice reverberated even above the noise of the crowd. "The bid has been made. Are there any who would speak against it?" 

Ichigo bit his lip as the moments passed. Sure, in theory, someone could wait until after the fight to raise their own bid, but it would be seen as bad form if they didn't at least speak up now. 

"This will be your final chance!" 

Still nothing. The kidō commander slammed his staff into the ground. "Then the bid is accepted."

Zaraki's sword missed Ichigo by a hair's breadth. It was pure instinct that made him duck and roll, yanking Zangetsu from its sheath and coming up to block the next blow. That hit with the power of a truck going flat out. Every bone in Ichigo's body shuddered at the impact, his feet sliding back inches in the sand. "What the hell!" he yelled. 

"Not my fault you're not ready," Zaraki growled, and swung again.

By rights, this one should have been easier to block since Ichigo was expecting it. It wasn't. The truck's engine revved, Ichigo's muscles screamed and began to buckle, his heels digging furrows in the sand behind him. In the far distance something yowled, feral and high-pitched, and, shikai or not, the blade in Ichigo's hand trembled.

 _Move!_ barked Zangetsu suddenly in Ichigo's head.

Ichigo obeyed without thinking, another duck and roll, up under Zaraki's grasping hand that damn nearly snagged him as he went passed, followed by a step of shunpo that took him halfway across the arena. Panting, he swung around as he touched down, sword already rising, expecting Zaraki to be right behind him. He wasn't, but he was coming, in a tsunami of reiatsu across the sand. 

But not at shunpo speeds, which at least gave Ichigo time to think.

 _What the fuck was that?_ he demanded.

There was a moment's silence and then Ossan answered hesitantly, _This task is not going to be so easy._

Which told Ichigo absolutely nothing. But, before he had a chance to point that out, Zangetsu shot back a furious sounding, _Ya think?_

_Guys!_ Ichigo snarled, warningly. _Seriously!_ The last thing he needed was them fighting each other, not when the air around him was thickening fast. Dust billowed, his ears popped. Zaraki was coming. _What the hell am I supposed to do! How am I supposed to fight this guy?_

Too late. Reiatsu crested and Ichigo was suddenly surrounded by a storm. He couldn't see, could hardly breathe for the power of it. He was getting blown away, literally and figuratively. This was so far outside the bounds of what they'd trained for, it wasn't even a bit funny. If Zaraki swung at him right now, no way would Ichigo see it coming. 

There was only one solution. Ichigo ran, again. Shunpo'ing straight across the arena, and this time Zaraki's howl of rage was deafening, as was the roar of disapproval from the crowd.

Panting, Ichigo only stopped once he had the kidō barrier safely to his back. Not that he had to worry about a sneak attack, he just felt better having something solid behind him. _Ossan?_

For a long moment, there was nothing again, then the Quincy spirit said, _The foe is too powerful to simply block._

 _Yeah, I kinda got that,_ Ichigo replied. Sweat was running down his temples, and his lips felt dry. He licked them. _So what? Parry?_ He made the suggestion tentatively, because honestly that didn't sound like anything he wanted to do. Whatever had happened before when he'd crossed swords with Zaraki, it hadn't been good. But keeping running wasn't an option either. For one thing, with reiatsu levels like that, he'd tire long before Zaraki did.

 _That ain't gonna fly,_ Zangetsu snarled. _Bastard almost broke us in half last time._

Broke…? That's what the trembling had been. The sweat on Ichigo's back turned cold, and it wasn't just his back sweating anymore either, his palms were too. Inside the gloves. Urgh. He'd forgotten how revolting that felt. Wiping them wouldn't actually do anything, but he did it anyway, letting go of Zangetsu's hilt one hand at a time. It gave him time to think. Not that it helped. How was he supposed to have a sword-fight with someone he couldn't cross swords with?

_Gonna have ta think outside the box, king._

_For once, the hollow is right, Ichigo. I'm afraid you'll need to change your fighting style quite dramatically._

_Right now!_ Ichigo yelped, _In the middle of a-?_ And then in his mind's eye he saw Hisagi, all speed and grace as he turned their fight into a dance of non-engagement. 

No, that wasn't true. Their blades had clashed, a lot, but it had nearly always been Ichigo who'd parried. Hisagi flowed around Ichigo's strikes like water, and on the odd occasion he'd had to meet one, it had been with deflection only and the softest of glancing blows. That was what Ichigo needed to do here, that was what Ichigo needed to be, because in that scenario, he had been Zaraki. Powerful, yes, but stuck in place thanks to his reiatsu being bound. Zaraki was likewise immobilised right now, by his lack of shunpo and his sheer size. It was as Ichigo had originally thought, Zaraki was like a truck, and trucks couldn't turn on a dime, not when they were travelling at top speed.

 _Get it now?_ Zangetsu queried.

The ground shook beneath Ichigo's feet. Zaraki was coming. Ichigo licked his lips again. _Yeah, I got it,_ he said, and headed into the storm.

Not stopping to think, he plunged through it, heading for the centre, the eye, where reiatsu hung heavy enough to pin choking clouds of dust to the earth, and where Zaraki loomed, mast-tall in the strange gloom. He had his back to Ichigo, head jerking from side to side like he had no clue where Ichigo might be coming from next. 

Going in low, 'cause seriously, who the fuck would expect him to do that, Ichigo lunged, feet first, sliding across the sands, Zangetsu whipping out to clip at Zaraki's heels as he passed. 

Start at the bottom and work up. Fell the big bastard like a tree. It was a plan.

As the blade made contact, Zaraki bellowed, but not from pain, unfortunately. He spun on the spot and that notched blade stabbed down fast, way faster than Ichigo was expecting. It damn near impaled him. Ichigo rolled desperately, the blade snagging in his sleeve and, for a heart-stopping second, it almost held, before the material tore and Ichigo was free, past Zaraki and out into the storm once again. 

Breathing heavily, with shock as much as anything else, Ichigo fled to the far side of the arena. When he stopped, he was gripping Zangetsu so hard, his hands were shaking. The guy could really move, especially for someone who Ichigo had, in theory, just hamstrung.

Had he managed to cut Zaraki at all? If he had, then surely no way should the guy have been able to turn the way he did.

 _His reiatsu is protecting him,_ Ossan said, _As yours does you. However his is magnitudes more powerful._

"Great, I can't cut him and I can't fight him. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with him then?" Ichigo yelled, only realising afterwards that he'd said it aloud. He glanced up at the crowd, but none of them were looking at him. Instead they were all staring at the other side of the arena and the building hurricane of reiatsu once more heading Ichigo's way. 

That blow he'd landed hadn't been as hard as it could've been. Maybe if he got closer, he could strike harder. It would leave him open but maybe… _Ossan-?_ he began, then shut the thought down. There wasn't anything the Quincy could do to help. He was on his own here.

 _Fuck you too,_ Zangetsu snarled.

 _Shut up!_ Ichigo snapped. _I'm trying to think!_

_Which is why you're gonna lose._ The fury in the hollow's voice was palpable. _Screw thinking, just get in there and fight the fucker!_

 _How?!_ Ichigo demanded, his own frustration bleeding though, liberally dosed with terror. _If I get too close, he'll-_

 _Cut ya? That what you're scared of, king? That nasty jagged blade of his cutting holes in ya pretty skin?_

That wasn't it. Not really. No, Ichigo didn't want to get cut, but it wasn't like it'd be the first time. Sparring with either Renji or Byakuya was always a bloodsport. It was just… there was something about Zaraki's zanpakutō. Something brutal. That sword wouldn't cut, it would tear, bite, rip chucks out of him, Ichigo could just tell, and while he knew he could fight on with the sort of surface wound his reiatsu normally conceded, losing half an arm might make things a bit problematic.

But he wasn't going to win by not at least trying. And there was one place on a shinigami where reiatsu armour didn't help.

This time when Zaraki arrived, Ichigo held his ground and then went high. Running up the barrier, he used it as a launching pad, throwing himself down onto Zaraki from above, yelling like a banshee as he went. Just as he'd hoped, Zaraki heard him and looked up, giving Ichigo the perfect framed target for attack: a single green eye, already bisected by a deep scar. Ichigo dove, sword out, intent on his target. 

Any sensible shinigami would have parried, ducked, something, but this was Zaraki. With a howl that made the air around Ichigo vibrate, he swung his sword one-handed like a cleaver. Ichigo twisted mid-air, felt the notched blade connect anyway, and kept going. This time, he hit for sure. Zaraki's voice rose in volume and tone, and again that feral half-scream rent the air. But Ichigo wasn't hanging around to find out what the hell it was. Landing heavily, he rolled to his feet and, limping, stepped once more into shunpo.

"Ow," he said, once he'd got far enough away not be breathing pure sand-dust. That had hurt. 

Hobbling a few more steps, he looked down and winced, the pain redoubling at the sight of the wound as it always seemed to. The injury didn't seem to be structural, since he was still walking, but his hakama were ripped open, and so was the skin beneath. Hip to knee, as far as he could tell without poking at it, and blood was pouring out. Fuck. He flexed his leg and the blood spilt faster. Double fuck. Not deep, he still had full movement, but it didn't need to be deep to be dangerous. An injury like this would slowly but surely drain his energy, and then Zaraki could hunt him down at his leisure. Slicing a strip off his hakama, Ichigo used it to bandage his leg. It slowed the blood flow down a little, enough to buy him some extra time. 

_If I were not bound by this infernal device-_ Ossan began, only for Zangetsu's twin-toned laugh to cut him off ruthlessly. As always, the sound made the hairs on Ichigo's neck stand on end. _Ain't no fun when ya on the receiving end, eh, Quincy._

 _This is hardly the same thing-_

_Tell that to the guy you held prisoner the last two fucking decades!_

_Focus!_ Ichigo snapped, hearing echoes of Byakuya in his tone. 

It worked. A grudging kind of silence fell in his head, then Zangetsu said, _I can heal ya, if you're okay with me coming out some._

After the last time, that was the very last thing Ichigo wanted. Then again, the hollow had kept him in one piece against Yoruichi, which was no mean feat. _Think you can do it without anyone noticing?_ Ichigo asked, 'cause crap knew what would happen if he went full on hollow in the middle of the arena. Shinigami might not hate hollows the way they hated Quincy, but that was only because hollows were seen as animals, a lower life form. It'd be like hating sheep.

 _Reckon if I'm careful, even you won't notice,_ Zangetsu replied. It was all Ichigo could do not to burst out laughing. _Hey,_ protested Zangetsu, _I can do fucking subtle!_

That was it. Ichigo barked a laugh that must have made him look like a madman to the people watching. He didn't care. Zangetsu and subtle were two words that didn't belong in the same galaxy, let alone the same sentence.

 _You should let him try,_ Ossan said quietly.

Across the other side of the arena, Zaraki was stirring. Whatever Ichigo had hit this time, it had definitely done something since he still wasn't heading their way. 

Had the hit been enough to make him give up? No, that was way too much to hope for. But even the possibility was tantalising. And if it was on the cards, Ichigo should be following up with another attack to push Zaraki over the edge into actually calling the bout.

Slowly, and poised to make a quick getaway if needed, Ichigo shunpo'd towards the downed lieutenant. 

Zaraki was kneeling, head down, his hand loosely gripping the hilt of his sword that was plunged into the sand in front of him. His other hand was over his face, and his reiatsu fluctuated around him like a tap being turned on and off again, one moment almost gone, the next even higher than it had been before. If he sensed Ichigo coming at all, he made no move to acknowledge him. If anything, he seemed lost in a world of his own. 

Fighting back the urge to go up to the guy and check he was okay, Ichigo circled closer, looking for the trap. Because it stood to reason there had to be one. No one just stopped and knelt down in the middle of a fight, not if they wanted to win, anyhow. But search as he might, nothing sprung out at him. There wasn't even that much in the way of blood, just a small pool on the sand and a scattering of drops down the collar of Zaraki's shitagi. In fact, everything about Zaraki and his surroundings looked totally normal - if you ignored the muttering. 

It was quiet, obviously supposed to be private, but there was something about it that drew Ichigo in, straining to hear more, to understand. It wasn't easy. Zaraki's accent was terrible, worse than usual, all the words slurring together and punctuated by dialect that Ichigo hadn't a clue about, but he picked up some, enough to know that Zaraki was talking to someone. Demanding to know where they were, Ichigo thought, though Zaraki was not being anything like as polite.

Anyone else and Ichigo would have reckoned he was speaking to his zanpakutō, but Ichigo had always been told that that was a no go for Zaraki, that he couldn't do it. Though that seemed completely off. How could Zaraki be in shikai and not be able to communicate with his sword at all. But, if this angry muttering was the sort of relationship they had, it'd explain a lot, like how come the thing was so damaged. 

Whoever it was, it didn't sound like he was getting the answers he wanted; his tone was getting angrier and more frustrated by the second. Any moment now he was going to snap out of it and then the fight would be back on and Ichigo would have lost this small advantage that he had.

Decision made, Ichigo waited for the next lull in reiatsu and lunged forward, aiming for the nape of Zaraki's neck with all the power of his shikai. He never made contact, at least not with Zaraki's neck, because Zaraki's hand got in the way. With a snarling growl, the behemoth stirred back into life, turning as he rose to his feet, still gripping Ichigo's blade around the edge as though it was a blunt piece of metal. Blood covered half his face, smeared into the skin, and the lid over his single uncovered eye was a ruin, split along the same scar as was there before. Whoever had tried to kill him the first time had attacked the same way as Ichigo and failed just as effectively. 

Horrified, Ichigo tried to yank his sword free. Zaraki simply grinned, tightening his grip, and jerked Ichigo closer. "You talk to your blade, Shiba?" he murmured, once they were close enough that Ichigo could smell the stink of old sweat on his clothes. "You take it to bed with you, and dream pretty dreams with it?" 

His voice was low and rough. Mesmerised, all Ichigo could do was shake his head. 

Zaraki raised his own blade, not to strike but in demonstration. He gave it a quick shake. "I used to talk to this," he said, "Years ago. Then the voice went away and now it don't talk at all. How'd ya figure that, eh?"

"Maybe it got scared by your ugly mug and ran off?" Okay, winding the guy up might result in getting his head knocked off, but at least he wasn't staring up at Zaraki like a stunned goldfish any longer. 

The lieutenant seemed vaguely amused, peering at Ichigo like he was trying to work out how come he wasn't dead yet - something Ichigo wasn't entirely sure of himself, right at this moment. Then he dropped Ichigo's sword, leaned his head back and laughed. The sound rolled around the arena, loud and long, stunning the audience for a brief second before the noise exploded back in with a pounding, "Za-ra-ki! Za-ra-ki!"

"Ya reckon it's my own fault, eh. Then I reckon I don't need its help to beat you!" And suddenly the fight was back on. With a whistling roar, Zaraki's blade swung. Ichigo shunpo'd backwards, just out reach, then darted in, flicking his blade up. Too slow. Zaraki dodged and, reaching with his other hand, caught Ichigo's sleeve and lifted him clean off his feet. Ichigo had a second to think, 'oh shit' and then he was flying, blind and spinning through sand-blasted air. He tried to tuck and roll, got his timing totally wrong and hit the ground shoulder first. He felt his collar bone snap. Pain screamed through him, enough to make him want to puke as he landed, his hand going numb almost immediately and his sword starting to slide from his fingers. 

No! That was not happening. 

Through sheer force of will, Ichigo made his hand close around the hilt of his zanpakutō and, good arm clamping his other to his side, he fled, the sound of Zaraki's laughter echoing in his ears.

Once he'd put enough distance between them that he'd see an attack coming, he stopped and knelt, finally letting his sword slip to the ground. His fingers were completely dead. What the hell was he going to do? He couldn't fight without a sword arm. And he couldn't lose. That simply wasn't an option. 

Which meant there was only one thing he could do. Closing his eyes, he said, _Zangetsu, can you fix this?_

Rather than an answer, he felt the hollow begin to rise. Swallowing back the instinct to immediately crush it, he let it happen, feeling the familiar choking sensation invade his chest and throat. Every time it was the same feeling, a rerun of the day Urahara had hollowfied him, and it never got any easier. This time though the sensation slowed before it hit the back of his throat, and seemed to kind of dissipate through the upper part of him. The pain in his shoulder began to ease and within seconds, feeling returned to his fingers. Ichigo flexed them, staring in amazement, then rotated his shoulder. Not even a twinge. 

A tingling in his leg had him turning his attention to that injury, only to find that beneath the drying blood it was covered in a coat of white flaky stuff. Ichigo rubbed at the mess with his gloved fingers and it came away easily, leaving the skin beneath tender, but whole.

 _That good enough for ya, king?_

The hollow's voice had a smug note to it and, for once, Ichigo didn't begrudge him it at all. _Great. Thanks,_ he said, and then lifted his head to look into the oncoming dust storm. _Think you can do that again?_ Because, if he didn't have to worry about getting hurt, he could put way more reiatsu into his blade. Maybe even enough to cut through Zaraki's iron-hard skin.

 _While ya fighting you mean?_ Zangetsu asked, twin-toned voice rich with amusement. _Why don't ya try it and see._

Ichigo scooped up his sword and sprang to his feet. He didn't need a better invitation than that.

*

Sweat poured off him. Ichigo swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand before resetting his grip and getting ready for another attack. He was covered in drying blood, his clothes hung in shreds around him, and all of him ached from being healed to fast and too often. Honestly, with the number of hits he'd taken, he was probably more hollow-stuff than shinigami by now, and that really wasn't something Ichigo wanted to dwell on because the long term implications could not be good.

But at least Zaraki was no better off than he was. Last seen, the lieutenant had looked even more like a zombie than usual. A freshly killed zombie at that, blood-drenched and with bits hanging off. Not that it had slowed him down any. Ichigo was increasingly of the opinion that even if he hacked off all four of Zaraki's limbs, the guy would still find a way to fight him.

Speaking of - a howl of frustrated rage now proceeded Zaraki across the arena. It sounded a bit like, "Stop running so I can fucking kill ya!" but Ichigo might be wrong. Still, it gave him a little frisson of glee, that he could wind Zaraki up to such a pitch and the guy still couldn't catch or kill him. Sooner or later he was going to have to make a mistake, right? And when he did, Ichigo'd be straight in there, ready to take advantage.

Dust rose, reiatsu with it. Ichigo backed up a couple of paces, dug in, then stepped into shunpo. A single step took him to the centre of the maelstrom, the exact distance identical to every other time he'd attacked, and there was Zaraki, eye gleaming bright in the gloom, grin wide, sword held high in two hands - 

Hang on. Two hands? That was new!

The reiatsu explosion as the sword swung down was monumental. It caught Ichigo broadside, the sheer power of it taking him clean off his feet and blasting him backwards totally out of control. Not bothering to ask for permission, Zangetsu pushed to the fore, shoving reinforcement through Ichigo's body as fast as it would go, and even that wasn't enough to save Ichigo completely. He slammed into the barrier, then slid down it like a particularly juicy bug down a windscreen, the force of the impact enough to make him see stars, and for the a longest moment all he could do was lie there on the sands staring up at the slowly spinning sky.

That was, until said sky went dark and, rather than the sun, it was Zaraki's blood-spattered evilly-smirking face that filled Ichigo's vision. "Got'cha," it said. And honestly, Zaraki wasn't wrong. Ichigo felt very got. If there'd been any choice in the matter at all, he'd have given up right then and there. But he couldn't, not when there were people like Yuzu and Karin and the kids at Ginzan, people who couldn't fight for themselves, relying on Ichigo to do it for them. So he reeled to his feet, spat a mouthful of bloody saliva into the sand and took his stance once again. 

Zaraki, who'd made absolutely no attempt to attack him until he was ready, grinned even wider and raised his long notched sword above his head. He had it gripped in both hands still, which tipped Ichigo off as to what he was planning even before he said, "Reckon you can stay on ya feet this time?"

 _Can we?_ Ichigo asked.

Rather than reply in words, Zangetsu let out an excited whoop, and when Zaraki brought his sword down and the blast hit, Ichigo understood why. Once again, they flew, only this time Zangetsu pushed reinforcement into Ichigo's legs and back, so when they hit the barrier, feet first, he could absorb the impact and use it as a launch pad. He shot back towards Zaraki faster than he'd left, catching him with his arms still extended down and his neck vulnerable. Ichigo slashed upward, saw cloth and skin part, saw blood spurt, and then he was gone, past Zaraki and running again, clear of the reiatsu storm that was rising behind him.

Head still spinning from both collisions, Ichigo reached the other side of the arena and stopped to regroup. As he leaned, hands on knees, willing his sense of equilibrium to return, he kept all his senses tuned to Zaraki. The lieutenant's levels of reiatsu were still rising, way higher than they'd reached before. How the hell was that even possible? Ichigo had hurt him, for definite. There'd been a lot of blood, more than enough for it to be an incapacitating wound, so what the hell was the guy doing pumping out that level of reiatsu. Unless…

Ichigo stood up and stared back across the arena. He couldn't see much, not with the amount of dust in the air, but Zaraki was definitely on his knees again. Was he doing what Renji did after Yamada had almost killed him: going bankai to heal his wounds? It'd work, but if he was releasing bankai, then the bout should have been called since they were supposed to be fighting with shikai only- 

Except, hang on. Weren't they were fighting shikai only _because_ Zaraki didn't have bankai?

What the hell? None of this made any sense. Nor did the sheer amount of reiatsu Zaraki was pumping out. It was still going up. Would the barrier even hold?

Ichigo glanced back at the orangey-coloured kidō behind him, and found himself face to face with a terrified looking member of the kidō corps instead. Sweat had turned the robed figure's headdress almost translucent across their forehead and they were gasping as they held out shaking hands towards the barrier - which was shimmering as flickering currents of faltering power flowed across it. A quick look up and down the line showed Ichigo that this wasn't the only place it was happening either. The whole barrier was straining in the face of the power Zaraki was chucking out, and if it failed, half the audience was gonna end up blown away.

Jaw tightening, Ichigo turned his attention back to Zaraki. He couldn't let this drag on any longer, not if people's lives were in danger. It was time to finish it. But even getting close to Zaraki right now was next to impossible, let alone managing to cut him. Ichigo would need to put virtually every scrap of his reiatsu into his blade to make it sharp enough and that would leave the rest of him completely unprotected. The moment he got close enough, Zaraki's reiatsu would tear the flesh from his bones, rendering him down to nothing but a blasted skeleton.

 _Any ideas?_ he asked as he very slowly set off back across the arena, attention split between Zaraki and the faltering barrier. There was still no sign of Zaraki getting up to fight, but outside of the barrier was a hive of activity. In several places, where kidō corps members had collapsed, their places in the line had been taken by black-clad shinigami. The crowd themselves seethed, shifting in place like they didn't know whether to flee or stay and watch.

Inside Ichigo's mind, Ossan cleared his throat and asked, _Would it be possible to use the same reinforcement you used on Ichigo's bones to toughen his skin?_

Presumably he was speaking to Zangetsu, so Ichigo kept his thoughts to himself. The hollow remained ominously silent for several moments, then Ichigo suddenly found it a lot harder to walk. His knees would hardly bend and his ankles felt stiff and-

 _Fuck. Too much,_ Zangetsu muttered, and the feeling eased, though it didn't vanish completely. There was still that sense of thickness all over him, kind of like wearing a wet suit, or armour, Ichigo guessed. A moment later, Zangetsu continued, _Reckon that'll stop him from cooking ya, at least. Can't do nothing about eyes though, you're on ya own there._

Ichigo had expected that. It was always a problem though and he'd learnt to fight around it. All shinigami did. It would mean working half-blind but-

_Unless ya okay with using my eyes?_

Black and gold. An image flashed through Ichigo's mind: his own face, Hisagi's eyes. They must turn like that when he went totally hollow, though he'd never seen them for himself. 

Would it be different seeing the world through Zangetsu's eyes?

Curiosity burned in him to find out. And it wasn't like Zaraki would notice, or care. That mad bastard only seemed bothered by whether or not Ichigo could fight.

Mind made up, he gave Zangetsu the nod and upped his pace. If he was going to do this, he needed to do it quickly, before the barrier failed completely.

As he ran, the hollow rose, and again Ichigo had to fight the urge to beat it back. This was about trust. He had to believe that Zangetsu would only come as far as he needed to and not try to take over completely. It was disconcerting though, to feel Zangetsu rise until he filled Ichigo's skin entirely and stared out through Ichigo's eyes, like he had in those few moments when he'd spied on Hisagi when they were sparring. Only this time he made no attempt to grab control.

Then Ichigo's vision faded. In the heartbeat it took to flare back to life again, Ichigo almost reacted on instinct and did something dumb. Thankfully, he didn't have a chance, and the world returned looking… much the same as it had before actually. The colours were a little dimmer maybe, the contrast sharper and, as he drew closer to Zaraki, the blast of reiatsu was nothing like as penetrating. 

Weird though. He'd have thought the world would look different through a monster's eyes.

 _Oi! Who're you calling monster?_

Okay, that was unfair. Thanks to Urahara, Zangetsu was no more a monster than Ichigo was himself. Still, it was odd to think that all those hollows Ichigo had killed had seen the world like this. It made them seem almost human.

Zangetsu snickered. _You're forgetting something, king. Hollows don't see the world, they taste it!_ And suddenly Ichigo's nose and mouth flooded with scents and tastes. All of them recognisably reiatsu, but smelling like chocolate and hamburgers, Yuzu's curry and mom's miso soup and, oh, a million other things that Ichigo desperately wanted to eat. Even Zaraki, right in front of him, smelt incredible: tender meat jammed full of succulent umami. Ichigo's stomach rumbled and, thoroughly distracted, he inhaled deeply, chasing the flavours that poured over his tongue - which was when Zangetsu pulled back and Ichigo was treated to a nose-full of eau-de-Zaraki, almost followed by a throat-full of sword-de-Zaraki when he didn't dodge quite fast enough.

 _Oops,_ Zangetsu snorted, not sounding repentant in the slightest. Ichigo felt his body bend in ways it really shouldn't be able to and Zaraki's blade skimmed by, only catching him a glancing blow along the shoulder. Not hard enough to break his newly reinforced skin, but he wasn't about to hang around and see whether a direct hit would. It was time to get back into evasion mode, only this time Ichigo needed to stay closer. He needed to get that finishing blow in and soon, and he had to make it count. 

He went high again, using Zaraki's blade as a foothold just like Yoruichi had on Ichigo's back when they'd fought up on Sōkyoku Hill. Up and over he tumbled, landing cleanly, only this time, instead of running, he went back up again, catching Zaraki halfway through his spin. With his sword in both hands, Zaraki had nothing like the range of swing and Ichigo exploited that to the full. Thrusting downward, he aimed for Zaraki's blindside. Only… there wasn't one. 

Two beady green eyes gleamed up at him- which was stupidly beyond unfair! What sort of poseur wore an eye-patch when there was nothing wrong with their eyes!

Below the eye lay evidence of Ichigo's last strike. Zaraki's neck and cheek were both laid wide open, bone and teeth visible through the sliced flesh. Zombie horror fodder again, as if he needed any more of that. 

Flinching, Ichigo lost his chance to attack and had to land into his stance, sword up ready to defend. Zaraki grinned, a strange lop-sided thing since one side of his mouth was a bloody gash, and then the blows came fast and furious, pure kendo, and thank fuck Byakuya had drilled him till his hands bled otherwise Zaraki would have taken him apart. The guy was good, fast and clean. If he'd fought like this all the time, he'd be way harder to beat. 

Ichigo kept it close, parried and ducked, slid and slapped Zaraki's bade away, cutting up towards his hands, and feeling Zaraki do the same. Zangetsu's reinforcement held, knuckles and wrists only bruising not being flayed open. Belly and neck too, all bearing the brunt, though it was the eyes that both of them were targeting. Unremitting, merciless, Ichigo's head filled with the sound of blades colliding, glancing off each other, like scissors being snapped on thin air.

By necessity, Ichigo's gaze stayed glued to Zaraki's throat. It should have been his eyes, but honestly the guy was just too freaking tall. And it wasn't like his expression was going to tell Ichigo much anyway. Manic homicidal tended to be a bit single-note. As they fought, the remains of the eye-patch flapped around just below Zaraki's ear, only held on by a single strap. It was really distracting, and had to be driving Zaraki up the wall. Every time he lunged, it swung round and smacked him in the face. If it'd been his, Ichigo would have ripped it off and chucked it away, but Zaraki either wouldn't, or couldn't. It was an odd thing. There was a kidō seal in it, and when they passed close, each aiming for a clean blow, Ichigo could have sworn he saw something moving on the inside of it. Like little mouths. With teeth.

He shuddered. It reminded him of Kurotsuchi's labs at the 12th, which honestly was the last thing he should be thinking about right now. 

With effort, Ichigo focused on the stupid high levels of reiatsu Zaraki was pumping out instead. It might be hard on Ichigo, but it wasn't doing Zaraki much good either. Putting aside the inconvenience of someone walking around surrounded by the kind of reiatsu storm that demolished houses, the main reason shinigami learnt to control their reiatsu was the damage they could do to their own bodies, and Ichigo could see it was as true for Zaraki as anyone else. The few patches of unbloodied skin visible through Zaraki's tattered shihakushō already looked scorched and the ends of his hair released little puffs of smoky ash every time he moved. 

Any other shinigami would be starting to pull back by now, out of sheer self-preservation. Not Zaraki. His reiatsu levels showed no sign of dropping and the barrier had to be close to collapse by now. 

_We have to end this,_ Ichigo said, fending off Zaraki's blade. _Come on, guys, throw some ideas at me. How can we hit and really make it count?_

After a long moment of silence during which Ichigo managed to put two new gashes in what was left of Zaraki's shitagi, Ossan asked, _Do you want to win, or do you want to live?_

 _Win!_ Ichigo shot back immediately. _There's no point in living if I don't win._ And not just because his life would be forfeit anyway. Even if it weren't, he'd never be able to forgive himself for letting down all the people who were depending on him.

 _Zangetsu?_ Ossan said then, his voice quiet and almost respectful. Ichigo was pretty certain that was the first time he'd ever heard the Quincy spirit address the hollow by his proper name.

 _I hear ya,_ replied Zangetsu, equally quietly. _King, you gotta trust me on this, okay. Lemme take the reins._

Could he? Should he?

So far during this fight, Zangetsu had proved himself nothing but trustworthy. He'd done everything Ichigo had asked and hadn't once tried for more. 

Well, there had been the smelling incident, but honestly that had just been a badly timed practical joke, and even Ichigo wasn't about to kick up a fuss about that.

Which left the question, did Ichigo trust him this one last time.

When it came to it, the answer was easy. Not simple, because nothing about his relationship with his zanpakutō was ever going to be that, but it wasn't a difficult decision to make.

Metaphorically holding his body out, Ichigo said, _Here. If you break it, you're paying for it._

He felt the grin, heard the chortle, and then control was wrested from him. It was kind of like suddenly finding yourself at the top of a very high roller coaster. Ichigo gulped, hung on tight, and tried not to scream as Zangetsu took over completely. 

They'd timed it well. With a snarl, Zaraki redoubled his attacks. Ichigo found himself bending backwards, faster and further than he'd ever try himself. Somewhere in the distance, he felt tendons scream and bones crack, but the hollow's healing was already negating the effects, dulling pain and rebuilding structure even as his body threw itself forward with whiplash speed. They managed to take Zaraki totally by surprise, coming up and under his guard, blade thrusting upward. Zaraki only just jerked his head back in time to avoid being impaled through the chin and Zangetsu followed the blade through with a fist, a knee and a foot to the temple as he climbed the front of Zaraki like a mountainside, slashing out at hands that came up to catch and grasp. 

"C'mere!" bellowed Zaraki.

"Fuck you!" Zangetsu carolled in reply, voice slipping dangerously close to that tell-tale twinned tone. Taking the last few inches with a bunny hop, Zangetsu leapt up and over Zaraki's head, much as Ichigo had tried earlier, only Zangetsu managed to stay airborne long enough for Zaraki to turn, and kicked out smartly with his heel on the way back down. Ichigo felt Zaraki's nose smatter under the impact. 

The bellow of rage that followed made the air shake. With a triumphant yodel, Zangetsu took off straight up again, somehow avoiding Zaraki's blinded-bull charge, turned a double somersault midair and landed, already launching a fresh attack. Zaraki had his sword back in one hand again, making him way more unpredictable, but a lot less strong. Zangetsu had let go of his completely, and had it spinning by the cloth wrappings beside him, the blade making a whum-whum-whum noise like the beat of heavy wings.

They met, exchanging slashing blows, Zaraki's sword whistling so close to Zangetsu's face that Ichigo flinched. Not the hollow, he went straight through it, not batting an eyelash and slashed backwards with a second attack as he went. It caught Zaraki across the upper arm and for a split second, Ichigo thought they'd done enough to make him drop his sword. But no, he had it back again a moment later, grip tight as he turned towards them. 

In the heartbeat it took for Zaraki to turn, Zangetsu had put some decent distance between them, but now he turned as well, sand grating beneath his sandal as he pressed forward yet again. Ichigo could feel it all, sense it all, taste the blood in his mouth and the sweat chilling on his body. But none of it was his to control. Zangetsu had it all. He could do exactly what he wanted, which right now apparently was charging head-first at Zaraki.

 _Seriously?_ Ichigo demanded, watching wide-eyed as the massive figure thundered towards them. And they towards it.

No answer. But even without one Ichigo knew that this was it. This was the moment. The air grew hot, stifling with reiatsu. In his ears, the sound of his pulse, the pounding of feet, and the cheers of the crowd merged into a single heavy beat driving them on, closer and closer across the sand, until, at the last possible moment, Zangetsu leapt. High, he went and higher still, then twisted to plunge straight down, sword out, one arm bracing the other. 

Suddenly deprived of a target, Zaraki stopped, looked up, saw them coming and readied himself, blade held high and wide. A game of chicken, with swords. This was not destined to end well. Last time, Ichigo had lost. Zangetsu wouldn't, Ichigo was sure of that, but the cost…

Mutually assured destruction. 

Fuck.

Zaraki swung, his long notched blade a guillotine slicing towards them. Zangetsu held his nerve and Ichigo felt the blade bite, a searing pain through his hips, belly and chest, just as their own sword hit the target and slid home, grating against bone as it went. Zaraki howled, or maybe it was his zanpakutō, Ichigo couldn't tell, and they fell together a twisted heap of limbs and sweat and blood. 

Arms wrenched backwards almost to breaking point, Ichigo found himself suddenly back in the driving seat of his own body, though Zangetsu was still keeping the pain to a distant, if terrifying, roar. Cursing, he yanked on his sword. Nothing happened. It was stuck, jammed in Zaraki's head like a harpoon through a fish. Cursing at Zaraki to stay still, Ichigo fought to get his feet under him, except they wouldn't move either. Nothing below his waist would move. He couldn't even feel any of it!

Shit. Shit, shit!

Straining to look down, all he could see was blood, and something kind of pink and blobby and… oh fuck was that his guts? _Zangetsu!_

_Working on it,_ came the snarled reply as white stuff bubbled up around the wound. Which was great for the visuals, but wasn't doing anything to help with the lack of movement!

Zaraki groaned deeply as he shifted again, and Ichigo had no choice but to go with him. It was that or lose his grip on his zanpakutō, and that so wasn't happening. Something heavy kind of wobbled inside him, making Ichigo want to puke.

 _The blow almost severed your spine,_ Ossan pointed out and Ichigo didn't know if that made it worse or better. He was doing his damnedest not to panic but it wasn't easy. He couldn't afford for this to happen. Not right now. Not when he needed to finish Zaraki once and for all. 

Unless all this flopping around was death throes? 

Maybe he could see, if he could just turn enough.

He strained to move, only for his arms to suddenly go as numb as his legs.

"What the hell!" Ichigo bellowed as his hands slipped off the blade. Back to having next to no control over his body, he slid sideways and landed with a thump, face first in the sand.

 _Hollow, what did you do?_ Ossan demanded. 

_It wasn't me! I fixed it!_ Zangetsu protested, sounding as rattled as Ichigo had ever heard him.

 _Then what-_ Ichigo began, before the penny dropped. Kurotsuchi's transmitter. It must have gone off for some reason. 

Had Ossan fucked up and tried to help Zangetsu out? If he had, Ichigo wouldn't blame him. Like Zangetsu was always saying, it was instinct. And from the very start, the Quincy spirit had been protecting Ichigo, even from himself. Honestly, it was amazing he'd managed to stand aside and let Zangetsu take up as much of the slack as he had. 

Now though, that instinct had landed them in trouble. 

A shadow fell over Ichigo. Straining his neck, he managed to catch a glimpse of black hakama and standard issue tabi and sandals, which told him absolutely nothing about who was standing over him. And when he tried to sense their reiatsu, he got nothing there either. Apparently he was cut off on all fronts. 

Then a female voice said, "Do you require medical assistance, Shiba-taichō?"

Great. It was Unohana. Not as bad as Kurotsuchi, especially as, right now, it sounded like she was here to heal him, not finish him off, but bad enough.

"I'm fine," Ichigo managed, though it came out a bit creaky and pained. "Zaraki might need some help though. I kinda stabbed him in the head."

"So I see. However, before I deal with my disobedient lieutenant, I ask again, do you require medical assistance. You appeared to take a fairly serious injury to the gut." This time the enquiry was accompanied by a firm hand on the shoulder rolling him onto his back. 

For a moment Ichigo almost panicked, because the last he'd seen of his stomach, it'd been leaking hollow goo, but Unohana's only reaction when she examined him was a slightly puzzled frown. "I was not aware that your zanpakutō had healing powers, Shiba-taichō," she said as she sat back primly on her heels. She rubbed her fingers together thoughtfully. They were coated in white powder and when Unohana's gaze lifted to meet his, Ichigo knew that she'd guessed there was something going on. Still, all she said was, "Although given your sister's inclinations, I suppose it should come as no surprise." 

As she spoke, she rose and moved out of Ichigo's line of sight, presumably to start treating Zaraki. Several other members of the 4th took her place, laying down a stretcher and starting to shift Ichigo onto it. As he was moved, he caught a glimpse of them doing the same with Zaraki, who still had Zangetsu sticking out of his head. 

If he'd been able, Ichigo would have reached for it. As it was, he had to settle for saying, "My sword. I need it back."

One of the medics glanced in Unohana's direction. "When the captain says it's okay," she said and then the stretchers were being lifted. Around the arena, the crowd exploded, their stamping roar equally split between "Za-ra-ki!" and "Shi-ba!" 

Ichigo allowed himself to bask in the adulation, just a bit, as he was carried towards the edge of the arena. He'd done it. He'd beaten the kenpachi from Zaraki, and in a fair fight too. He'd saved his family, and his clan. And in the next few minutes, he'd be a free man again. 

The stretcher tipped a little as the bearers stepped across the boundary between arena and lists, and the sound of the crowd began to drop below deafening. A moment later, Unohana reappeared beside him. "How are you feeling?"

Ichigo guessed she was asking if he could move yet. "'Bout the same." He glanced over at Zaraki. "Any chance of getting my zanpakutō back?"

Unohana followed his gaze. "I'm afraid that will have to wait. We have the injury stabilised, but removing it without the proper preparations could be quite dangerous."

Like with Koniwa when he'd stabbed himself in the gut. "Got it," Ichigo said with a jerk of his chin, which was about all he could manage at the moment. "Get it back to me when you can." He didn't like leaving Zangetsu just stuck there, but he didn't want Zaraki to die either. 

Unohana nodded in reply. "That's very generous of you, Shiba-taichō. Your father was quite the healer too, did you know? It's something of a Shiba tradition."

Her attitude was so warm and friendly that it was on the tip of Ichigo's tongue to tell her about Isshin's failed attempt to become a doctor, but he managed to bite it back just in time. Yuzu had probably told her old captain everything about their lives in the living world, but there were other people around so there was no point being stupid about it. 

In an ideal world, Ichigo would have escaped the conversation altogether before he accidentally put his foot in it, but while he was stuck on this stretcher unable to move, he had no choice about making nice. Plus, he had just turned Unohana's lieutenant into a dango on a stick, so he probably owed her something. So, instead he said, "Yeah, Byakuya used one of his creams on my hands when the gloves made them itch." 

Unohana frowned slightly. "And did it work, this cream? I was informed that the damage the gloves were causing was at reishi level and thus unsuitable for healing."

Right, that was true. Kira had said there wasn't anything that could heal the damage Quincy caused. Then again, Byakuya hadn't made a secret of the cream. He'd sent some over to Kyōraku after Ichigo had accidentally injured Ise, so it wasn't like other people weren't aware of it. He should be okay telling Unohana. That way, if Kurotsuchi ever tried anything like he had with Rikichi again, at least there'd be someone around who could help heal them some. 

Damn it, if he could, he'd offer some of the cream to her, but Shin had what was left in the pot Ichigo had given him.

Shin. Fuck, Ichigo hadn't given him a single thought since this whole shitstorm started. At least the ex-informer was bright enough to keep his head down. And it shouldn't be so bad anyway. No one knew of Kaito's connection to Ichigo, except for Aikawa, and from what Ichigo had seen, he wouldn't turn them in.

"Shiba- taichō?"

Oh, Unohana had asked about dad's cream, hadn't she. Distractedly, Ichigo replied, "Yeah, it worked. Stopped them itching completely and started the skin healing too." 

"How curious. Did he happen to mention what the cream was?"

The stretchers had stopped moving. From the corner of his eye, Ichigo caught a glimpse of striped canvas that had to be division tents. With any luck, this whole nightmare would be over soon and he'd be able to start sorting shit out. Like making sure Shin was okay, and sending Rukia to bring Chad and Karin and Yuzu home. He might even be able to sneak away and see how Renji and Byakuya were settling into their new home. Gods, he missed them all so much.

Summoning up the last of his patience, he answered Unohana's polite enquiry, "Only that it was dad's. But I showed it to Kira and he'd never seen anything like it before."

They ducked into a tent, and immediately another familiar voice snapped, "I see the barbarian has destroyed his reiatsu regulator again." This time Ichigo didn't need to move his head to know who it was. That creep, Kurotsuchi. The clown-faced bastard hove into view. "Send it over to me and I'll see what I can do about fixing it," he continued.

"You have my thanks, Kurotsuchi-taichō," Unohana replied, so politely that all the hairs on Ichigo's neck stood on end. "My lieutenant and I are in your debt."

Not a place Ichigo ever wanted to be. Going by the expression that flitted across Kurotsuchi's face, he didn't fancy it much either. The worry was quickly hidden by a sneer. "There's no need, I'm sure," he said, and peered down at Ichigo, who glared right back at him. "Are you done with this one?"

"She's done," Ichigo said, and was completely ignored as Unohana said, "There is nothing medically wrong with him, as far as I can tell. However he does appear to be having difficulty moving."

Ichigo clamped his lips shut. No way was he bringing up Ossan's possible slip in front of anyone if he didn't have to. They might call the challenge forfeit.

Head cocked as he looked down at Ichigo, Kurotsuchi wrinkled his nose. "Hm," he hummed. "Perhaps my limiter activated somehow." 

Yeah, Ichigo thought suddenly, the bastard probably set if off himself. In fact, that was way more likely than Ossan screwing up.

"I saw no evidence of Quincy activity," said Unohana. "Surely had he done such a thing, there would be evidence either on his body or Zaraki's."

Evidence. Of course! His hands inside the gloves. If Ossan had done anything, Ichigo's hands would be itching by now! "I didn't cheat," he pointed out hurriedly, willing to speak now that he was sure. Yet again, he was totally ignored as Kurotsuchi continued, "Yes, I think this merits further examination."

Ichigo exploded. "Damn it, I said I never cheated! Look at my gloves if you don't believe me, you bastard-"

"Shiba-taichō! Language, please."

Ichigo snapped his mouth shut on some of the choicer things he'd been about to say, since even he wasn't stupid enough to annoy Unohana-taichō twice. Instead, he settled for scowling at the lying fucker instead. Kurotsuchi beamed back at him, making Ichigo grind his teeth in frustration. Sooner or later, wizard-san was going to declare him the winner and he'd be a free man. Then he'd sort the bastard out. Somehow.

After giving them both a terrifyingly quelling look, Unohana stepped outside, presumably to get Zaraki transferred to the 4th. Kurotsuchi made no move to leave, instead lurking in the corner of the tent as Ichigo was shifted from stretcher to sleeping platform and covered in quilts. As the medics fussed, Ichigo glared at him over their backs, daring him to try anything. 

"Why the hell are you still here, anyway," he asked, after they'd left.

Kurotsuchi sneered. "Waiting to remove the transmitter, of course."

"Was it you who set it off?" Ichigo didn't like asking, but the fact remained that it had activated and he was positive now that it wasn't down to anything Ossan had done. 

As Kurotsuchi opened his mouth to answer, Unohana re-entered the tent. Gaze flicking judgmentally between the two of them, she said, "Shiba-taichō, a medic will remain on call until you are recovered from the operation. In the meantime, I'll make sure to return your zanpakutō to Yoruichi-sama as soon as possible."

"Thanks," Ichigo said. And then, registering her exact words, yipped, "Hang on, why give it to Yoruichi and not me?"

She looked at him askance. "Prisoners in the Senzaikyū are barred from holding zanpakutō, surely you're aware of that." 

"Senzai- What?!" Ichigo couldn't believe what he was hearing. Why would he be going back there? He'd won the bout fair and square, damn it!

"Is there a problem?" With perfect timing, wizard-san ducked into the tent, solid and sure and immediately towering over everyone when he stood upright. Ichigo gave him a relieved look. Maybe he'd make sense of all this. He was supposed to be judging the challenge. 

"The prisoner is under the impression that he won," Kurotsuchi scoffed. "How naive. There's a world of difference between losing and winning, you know."

"No," Ichigo protested. "I won. Zaraki went down first, therefore I win." 

He looked to the kidō captain, heart falling when he saw the big man's frown. "Under the rules of the arena, if neither fighter forfeits, the winner is the one capable of fighting on. Since neither of you fall into that category, the bout must be declared a draw."

No way. He was going to have to do this all over again? 

"In the meantime, I'll be taking custody of the prisoner," Kurotsuchi announced.

"Fuck off! No way I'm going with you!" Ichigo snarled. He'd been in the 12th once and didn't plan on going back anytime soon. He started struggling, or tried to. With only his head and neck working, it was next to impossible, but if anyone tried picking him up, he was definitely chewing them to death.

"Don't be ridiculous. If I say you're coming with me, then you will come with me," said Kurotsuchi. Several figures appeared in the tent doorway. Most wore the lab-coats of 12th division shinigami.

Ichigo stopped thrashing just long enough to jerk his chin at Kurotsuchi and say to the wizard, "Hey, you're the judge. Tell him I'm not going anywhere."

Frown deepening, the kidō captain looked between the two of them then settled on Kurotsuchi. "I was under the impression he would be returned to the Senzaikyū." 

Kurotsuchi inclined his head. "As he will be, once I am finished removing the transmitter. Such a complex process must be undertaken at the proper facilities, which I have at my division."

The lying bastard. There'd be nothing left of him once Kurotsuchi was finished. "That's complete bullshit, and you know it! Come on, wizard-san! Tell him!" The guy had to say something. Or someone had to. Was there no one in this stupid fucked up place who would take a stand against this sadistic creep? "If it's that difficult to get out, Unohana-taichō should be doing it!" 

Where was she anyway? Ichigo searched frantically for her, but she was gone. She must have slipped out when the wizard arrived.

There was no one left to help. 

Panic started to take the place of rage. 

"Silence," Kurotsuchi snapped. "Prisoners are there to be exploited, not talk." He glared at the kidō captain. "If you have a problem, discuss it with the sōtaichō since it was he who put me in charge of controlling the prisoner's Quincy abilities." He tucked his hands into his sleeves. "I am, after all, Seireitei's premier expert on the subject."

Wizard-san nodded, and Ichigo could see him starting to accept it. "No!" he yelled. "Seriously, no fucking way. I am _not_ getting taken to the 12th. They'll cut me to fucking bits! You bastard, Kurotsuchi, let me the fuck go, now!"

Something clamped hard round his chest, pressing up into his throat. For a second, Ichigo thought it was Zangetsu starting to rise and he was tempted to let it; see how Kurotsuchi dealt with a hollow trying to tear his head off; but no, if he did, that would be it, he'd never get this turned around. But when he tried to swallow the hollow back down, nothing changed. The same choking feeling was still there, making him gasp for every breath. It wasn't Zangetsu at all, it was that thing of Kurotsuchi's. Or something the bastard was doing.

Wizard-san was starting to look concerned, but before he could say anything, Kurotsuchi stepped between them. "A side-effect of the transmitter, nothing more. The condition will right itself once it's removed." 

Ichigo couldn't see if the kidō captain believed him, but he wasn't about to take the chance that he wouldn't. "He- he-" he gasped, and totally failed to force out anything above a whisper. Fuck. He couldn't even scream for help. 

Canvas creaked. Was it wizard-san leaving? Ichigo's belly flip-flopped in terror, but then someone over by the door said, "Kurotsuchi-taichō, Commander Tsukabishi, the sōtaichō has requested your presence urgently."

It was a stretch, but Ichigo caught a glimpse of a distinctive head covering. A messenger. Thank crap. Ichigo was spared.

"Well, tell him he'll have to wait," Kurotsuchi snapped. "I have better things to do right now than run around after a senile old fool."

"Ahhh-" the messenger havered, obviously unwilling to leave before he had a promise that they'd be following. 

Luckily for him, Unohana stepped back into the tent, her expression grim. "Gentlemen, you heard the order. We need to leave immediately."

Wizard-san, Tsukabishi, was already moving. Kurotsuchi seemed less willing. "I'm no more likely to obey you than I am a message from this babbling idiot," he replied, waving a hand at the messenger. "What's so important that it can't wait until I operate on the prisoner?"

Unohana's gaze flicked to Ichigo for a second before returning to Kurotsuchi. "Tell him," she said.

The messenger ducked his head. "Onmitsukidō raided the 7th." 

What little breath Ichigo could muster froze in his chest. Kaito, Shin! Fuck.

Unohana took up the tale. "Apparently the related chaos is now spilling out into the streets and the sōtaichō wishes us to restore order as soon as possible."

"Is that so." Kurotsuchi's eyes brightened greedily at the prospect. Crap, the creepy bastard would be all over the survivors. What the hell was up with the old man letting someone like Kurotsuchi get involved in a clean-up? "And what prompted such an unprecedented action, dare we ask?"

Again Unohana's gaze flicked to Ichigo. Was she passing on all of this for his benefit, and if so, what the hell did she think he was going to do with it? "Apparently there was intelligence linking Aikawa-taichō directly to the attack on the Towa clan."

"Aikawa?" Tsukabishi queried, and even Kurotsuchi seemed surprised. "I wouldn't have thought he cared enough to get involved in anything treasonous," he said, and then huffed in irritation. "Well then, I suppose there's no choice." He waved a hand. "You two go on ahead. I shall be with you as soon as I've secured the prisoner."

Secured? Fuck no! He had things to do, places to be! People to save!

As Unohana and Tsukabishi left the tent, Ichigo let out a desperate mental wail, _Zangetsu!_

 _I hear ya, king!_ came the reply, and this time Zangetsu did rise. Ichigo made no attempt to stop him. If anything, he moved aside, embracing the power the hollow brought with him and adding to it with his own fury. Muscle and tendon strained, breath snatched and caught. Then, beyond all the odds, Ichigo's fingers twitched. 

Immediately Kurotsuchi's gaze snapped towards them. His lips parted in something that was nothing at all like a smile, "Finally," he said. "And what an interesting specimen. But we don't want just anyone seeing that." He held up a thing that looked like a cartoon detonator. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to wake you up before I remove anything too important," he said, and pressed the button.

Something in Ichigo's head fizzed and the world went black.


	18. Skin and Bone: The Monster Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** This chapter includes some pretty graphic torture. Ichigo's at the 12th and these are really not nice people AT ALL.

Smell was the first thing to return, an acrid chemical stench that burnt his nose and made it itch. Ichigo went to scratch it and consciousness kicked back in with a vengeance, because he couldn't - couldn't move his arms, couldn't move his legs, couldn't even turn his head to rub his nose on his shoulder - but he could feel everything; from cold metal beneath his unclothed body, to the straps across his chest and hips and the ones around his neck, wrists and ankles. It was like someone had severed the links between his brain and his muscles but left his nerves intact.

His eyes flew open - somehow they were still working, thank crap. Above him, kidō lights dangled from a low concrete ceiling, their pinkish-white glare casting deep shadows around the room. If there was a door, he couldn't see it, but off to the right was a bank of what had probably been medical monitors before Kurotsuchi got his hands on them. Now they were covered in purple and green slimy bits, though going by the squiggly lines and flashing lights on the screens, they still seemed to be working. Closer to him, within touching distance had he been able to move, stood a drip-stand equipped with a bag full of purple liquid that fed down through a tube into his left elbow. 

The 12th. He was at the 12th. Naked and strapped to an operating table.

_Ossan?_

_They've replaced the collar. My powers are bound._

_I got ya back, king._ Zangetsu's voice might have been low and worried but coming right on the heels of Ossan's admission, it sounded like a lifeline to Ichigo's terrified ears. The hollow began to rise. Ichigo could have stopped it if he'd wanted to. But he didn't. At least Zangetsu stood a chance of getting some part of Ichigo's body moving.

Like last time, as the hollow rose, muscles began to react to its power. Fingers flexed, biceps and thighs actually jerked slightly and Ichigo's head thrashed from side to side as Zangetsu forced more and more reiatsu through him. The table began to rattle, the monitors were going mad and then, beside them on the drip-stand, something beeped. Cold-heat flooded Ichigo's body, and every part of him suddenly went limp.

The hollow howled in frustration and Ichigo was shoved right into the back seat as it surged to the fore, screaming defiance. 

They might as well have been farting into a tsunami for all the effect it had. No matter how much the hollow fought and swore, and no matter how much rage Ichigo pushed its way, not a single finger so much as twitched.

Finally, there was a sense of someone reaching up, snagging the hollow and dragging it back down. _Stop fighting this, both of you!_ Ossan yelled - had been yelling for a while, probably. _Ichigo, I am doing my best to protect your brain, but if you keep this up, you will die!_

Panting, Ichigo stared up at the ceiling. His head hurt, like a lot. The worst headache ever, if he was being honest, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. _Good!_ he shot back, starting to strain again and inviting the snarling Zangetsu to join him. _Better dead than letting that bastard cut me to fucking pieces!_

_Is that what you believed when your lover was imprisoned?_

Ichigo froze. 

Renji. 

When Renji had been sentenced to time in shugo and Byakuya had wanted to see him executed instead, Ichigo had been horrified. 'Where there's life, there's hope', he'd argued. And he'd believed it. He believed it now. 

But did he believe it enough not to fry his own brains trying to get free? Did he have the guts to face this, whatever _this_ turned out to be?

_Ossan?_ Even in his own head it came out small and scared.

_We're here, Ichigo. Both of us. You're not alone._

Ichigo clung to the words like a branch on a storm-tossed sea, and did his best to think rationally. Why had Kurotsuchi even brought him here? Not knowing that was terrifying him more than anything else.

Needing to remove the transmitter was nothing but a ruse, Ichigo was certain of that. And it seemed unlikely that Kurotsuchi was interested in Ichigo's Quincy powers. After all, he'd had Ichigo in his grasp before and had let him go in favour of taking Renji… who he'd then tried to use as a hostage to get his hands on Karin.

Did he want Ichigo for the same reason?

If he did, it wouldn't work, Karin wasn't at the 6th any longer. And wizard-san had said that the challenge was a draw, which meant sooner or later someone was going to come looking for Ichigo, so no, that couldn't be it.

The only other thing had been Kurotsuchi's reaction when the hollow started to rise. He'd not been surprised.

Had the transmitter been monitoring all of Ichigo's abilities as he fought?

In retrospect that seemed likely, and made using Zangetsu's high-speed regeneration seem like a really dumb idea. Then again, without it they'd never have beaten Zaraki.

Still, having some idea as to what Kurotsuchi was after, helped. As did realising that sooner or later someone was going to come for him. In the meantime, the best thing Ichigo could do was keep calm and not let Kurotsuchi anywhere near Zangetsu. 

A door opened and closed. Ichigo braced himself for one of Kurotsuchi's snide comments and was surprised when a guy wearing a lab coat and carrying a clipboard appeared. At first sight, he looked pretty normal; four human sized limbs attached in the usual places and hair on his head that stood up in spikes; until light fell on his face and Ichigo saw the smile. It was worse than Kurotsuchi's, worse than the Joker's. It looked carved into his face and made him look like some kind of horror movie clown doll thing.

What was it with the 12th and body modification?

When he reached the table Ichigo was strapped to, the guy glanced up. "Hello there, good to see you're back with us," he said, putting the clipboard down beside Ichigo's hip. "The captain gets quite cross if he's kept waiting."

"For what?" Ichigo asked, before he'd even wondered if he could actually speak. It came out a bit hoarse, but then he hadn't exactly tried up until now. Yelling incoherently didn't count.

Smiler didn't seem surprised anyway. "For his experimental subjects to be ready," he said, checking the straps on Ichigo's neck and right wrist with clammy fingers. "Believe me, you don't want to get on the wrong side of him when he loses his temper."

Ichigo would prefer not to be on any side of Kurotsuchi, ever, though he didn't bother sharing that opinion. Studying Smiler, who was working his way clockwise around the table checking the rest of the restraints, Ichigo wondered if it was worth appealing to his better nature. Did he even have one? He didn't exactly look promising but it had to be worth a go since screaming definitely wouldn't get him anywhere and he couldn't fight.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he said, then cringed inwardly. Talk about cliche.

Smiler glanced up at him. "Do what?" he said, apparently not put off by Ichigo's bad action-movie dialogue.

Fine, in that case Ichigo was going to play it for all it was worth. "You don't have to be the bad guy. If you let me go, we can both get out of here. Give yourself a second chance. Come to the 6th. Leave Kurotsuchi to dig his own grave."

"A second chance?" Smiler said. He might have been smiling, it was difficult to tell, and anyway he'd moved on to the monitors and was pressing buttons and making notes. "That sounds exciting."

"Does it indeed?" Kurotsuchi's voice came from by the door. "I'll remind you that leaving the 12th is forbidden, as you well know."

Smiler glanced over at him before getting back to his monitors. "Almost ready for you, captain," he said and pressed several more buttons. All the screens went blank for a moment and then flashed back to life. Kurotsuchi simply tsked irritably as he stalked towards Ichigo, who, despite his best intentions, kind of panicked and ended up doing some pretty lame head rolling in an attempt to get away. Even that was stopped when Smiler stepped up and added yet another strap, this one across Ichigo's forehead. 

Now completely immobilised, all Ichigo could do was pant as he stared up at Kurotsuchi bending over him. This close he could see where the edges of Kurotsuchi's make-up met his headdress and collar. Below the stark white line, the skin was normal looking, and it almost made the 12th division captain seem human. Almost.

"A word of advice, Shiba," Kurotsuchi said, summoning a tiny too-bright kidō light which he shone directly into Ichigo's forced open eyes. "If you're going to try and suborn my people, I'd recommend choosing one who doesn't experience an unhealthy amount of enjoyment from certain aspects of his work."

Unhealthy. Kurotsuchi had a nerve throwing around an accusation like that, considering the things he'd done to Uryū.

The light vanished. Blinking away the afterimage, Ichigo caught sight of Smiler over Kurotsuchi's shoulder. He was gazing at the captain like he'd just been given a compliment and, when he saw Ichigo watching, he waggled his eyebrows and pointed to himself. 

Well, fuck. So much for people's better natures. Honestly, he should've known better than to try. 

"Set the levels to eleven to start with," Kurotsuchi said, stepping back. "Five second bursts for thirty seconds, rising increments of two."

"Eh, what?" Ichigo said, just as Smiler replied, "Right-o, captain," and flicked a switch on his machines.

Pain, like nothing Ichigo had ever experienced, coursed through his body. It felt like he was burning from the inside out, like someone had replaced his bones with molten lead. His jaws clenched and, despite the purple drug still pumping into his system, every muscle in his body contracted, forcing his body to arch against the restraints. His eyes rolled, breathing became impossible, even thinking was hard as his body tried to get away, to fight, to do something to make the pain stop.

And then it did, just long enough for Ichigo to gasp for air, before returning even worse than before. Vision darkening, Ichigo fought to stay conscious. If he slipped, the hollow would come out, and Kurotsuchi would get what he wanted. No way was he letting that happen.

Again the pain stopped, but this time there wasn't even a chance to breath. Lungs exploding, Ichigo still struggled to keep a grip, but he was losing, and he knew it. Again the stop-start. He managed a gulp of oxygen then choked on it as it was forced from his lungs as an agonised scream. 

_King!_

Again, and this time Ichigo could do nothing. There was no breath, no thought, just the taste of blood in his mouth and a desperate mental plea for it to end.

_Zangetsu, no!_ Ossan - but the hollow was coming, and neither Ossan nor Ichigo could stop it. Up through Ichigo's chest, where his heart was a near-fatal spasming mess, and into his throat, which clicked on nothing as his spine arched and his body seized from the power being forced through it, the hollow rose like a warm rush of life, absorbing the surges of power and healing all the tears and bruises from the inside out. 

Slowly, the pain eased to manageable levels and rigid muscles finally relaxed. Relieved from the demands of his body, Ichigo let out a shuddering breath and opened his eyes. Zangetsu hovered in the back of his mind and looked out through them too, the pair of them sharing the same space. Some gadget over by Smiler let out a series of loud chirrups and a yellow-toothed smile curved Kurotsuchi's lips. "Intriguing. I thought at first the data must be wrong, but there you are," he said. The kidō light briefly appeared again, shining bright into Ichigo's pried open eyes. "An impossibility, of course, scientifically speaking. A Quincy-hollow hybrid cannot exist, which leads me to believe you are some kind of chimera. The question then becomes, are you one of Aizen's broken creatures or some kind of natural phenomenon?"

If those were the only two options, then Kurotsuchi didn't know about Urahara. Not that it mattered. If Zangetsu could keep the pain at bay like this, then there was no need for him to come out any further. Why give the creep any more than he'd already gotten. In the meantime, he could do worse than remind Kurotsuchi of a few things.

"Yoruichi's going to fucking kill you. And then Kyōraku'll piss on what's left." 'Cause Ichigo might have had his fallings out with the 8th division captain, but no way would he let this kind of insult to the nobility go unpunished.

"Kyōraku, you say? And what makes you think he would even care." Kurotsuchi sounded positively gleeful.

"Because I'm a Shiba, you ass!" Ichigo yelled, his voice croaking out to nothing by the end.

Kurotsuchi tapped a long fingernail against his chin. "You might have been, at some point. Right now you are, let's call it, 'between identities', making you an ideal subject for my vital scientific research. And if anyone complains later, well, I'm sure some adequate compensation can be found." He glanced over at Smiler. "Beginning the first battery of tests. On my mark." 

Smiler started flicking switches. Anxious, Ichigo followed his actions. Just because the pain was under control didn't mean this wasn't going to get nasty. Kurotsuchi was an imaginative bastard. 

"Mark," Kurotsuchi said, producing a scalpel from his sleeve and slashing it straight across Ichigo's throat. 

Blood hit the ceiling. Stars spun behind Ichigo's eyes as his blood pressure nose-dived, and he had just enough time to think, 'oh fuck, I'm gonna die', before Zangetsu boiled to the fore, shoving Ichigo aside entirely. 

For the longest moment, Ichigo knew nothing except darkness and the frantic thumping of his own heart, and then world flooded back in all its breathless, echoey-eared glory. He lay there, blinking up at his own blood dripping from the ceiling, trying to parse what had just happened. Zangetsu must have healed him, that much was obvious. And then retreated again? 

_You good?_ he asked.

_Awesome. Be even better if I could fucking move. Quincy!_

_I'm doing what I can, however most of the techniques I can manage also require a high level of reiatsu control and-_

"Mark!" Kurotsuchi snapped somewhere above him. This time Ichigo didn't even see the blade flash, just felt the stab, saw the blood spurt and he was gone again, back into nothingness limbo. As he went, he thought he heard the hollow roar, but that could just have been wishful thinking.

When the world returned, it had skipped a scene, like a film on fast forward. Kurotsuchi, still with a head unfortunately, was over by the monitors, eyes glued to flashing screens as bony fingers danced over the buttons. "Balance within the soul is being maintained despite no evidence of a control system. Fascinating," he mused aloud and glanced at Ichigo, who looked back, still not able to do much more than pant. And shiver. Zangetsu might be suppressing the pain, but his body was still experiencing it. He was sweating hard, and as it cooled, his temperature was dropping.

Or maybe it was just shock. 

_Your body is stable,_ Ossan offered. _However there is a limit to what either of us can do-_

"Mark," Kurotsuchi called again and again, Ichigo was swamped by Zangetsu and pushed under. Surrounded by darkness, he hung numbly, wondering what the hell this place could be. Instinctively, he reached out: _Zangetsu? Ossan?_

Echoes came back to him, or maybe noises that seemed to be coming from so far away he could hardly hear them, and suddenly Ichigo knew where he was. This was the nothingness between his body and his inner world, the 'place' he normally fell through, only currently he was suspended between them, unable to get to either. He seemed to linger there for longer this time, and when he got back, it was to chaos. Red lights strobed across the ceiling and Kurotsuchi was yelling, screaming really, and there was something in Ichigo's hand. He lifted it to see, blinked stupidly at the head grinning back at him, and then realised what he'd managed to do.

_Don't just fucking sit there!_ Zangetsu howled.

Ichigo tossed Smiler's head and struggled upright, ripping the straps from his body as he went. Kido was flying at him from behind the monitors, which is where Kurotsuchi had retreated, but Ichigo batted it away like it was nothing. Sparks shot from the machines, and several burst into flames. Then the door slammed open and shinigami poured in. Loads of them, some in lab coats, others without, all with swords and yelling at the tops of their voices. 

Ichigo leapt for the ceiling, grabbed a light fitting and used it to launch himself over most of their heads towards the door. He took out a few on the way, his claws slashing chunks out of some, feeling bone crunch under his feet as he landed, sliding out the door and sprinting along the empty corridor. At the corner, he headed right, along another corridor, which lead to more corridors and yet more. Ichigo kept going, choosing the upward route at every turn rather than down, past labs and dormitories and places where shinigami sat and ate food in neat lines. When they saw him, some screamed, others leapt up and drew their swords. Ichigo ignored them all. He was getting out of the 12th, if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Inches from a metal door that had outside written all over it, something hit him in the back, right below the shoulder blades. He staggered forwards, off balance as his legs suddenly stopped working properly, and it hit him again, and again. Not just blunt hits either, damaging ones. Ichigo could feel Zangetsu pushing reinforcement and power into his spine, repairing the damage. Finally left with no choice, Ichigo gave up trying to make the exit and spun to face whoever was attacking him. It was Nemu, two of them, both equipped with drills for right-hands and going at him like some kind of R18+ slasher-movie bad guys. Dodging frantically to avoid a drill to the eye, Ichigo brought his arms up and felt the armour over them shredding as yet another attack came in. He reeled backwards, hit the wall, felt briefly grateful that he wasn't going to get hit from there, which was when the concrete behind him disintegrated and yet another drill arm erupted from his chest. White goo came with it, trying to heal damage still being done. Flanges shot out from the drill head like the barbs on a harpoon and Ichigo was slammed backwards into what was left of the wall as the two Nemu's kept attacking the front. 

It was an all-out sustained attack on two fronts, but he should still be able to take them down. He was captain level for fucks sake and they were only lieutenants. But still, somehow he couldn't seem to catch his breath or his thoughts, or even his balance properly. Sacrificing another lump of forearm, Ichigo snatched at one of the Nemu's drill-hands, twisting it sideways until it snapped. One down, one to go. He aimed for the other, missed, and only getting slammed back into the wall again prevented him from getting drilled through the belly. The Nemu careened sideways, drill-hand screeching across concrete, while the other, now drill-less, let rip with her feet. That should have been way easier to parry, yet Ichigo still found himself struggling.

_Poison,_ Ossan hissed. 

_What?_ The other Nemu was back, drill flying. Ichigo ducked and still felt it slice into his face. Goo welled up, rendering him temporarily blind in one eye and a foot caught him in the chest. His knees went. _Fuck!_ That was way too easy. He was going numb again. He could feel it. That creeping lack that wasn't just Zangetsu keeping the pain at bay was inching over his body. The drill through his chest suddenly withdrew, and he slid down the wall, his ass and then head hitting the floor with a thump. His arms flopped uselessly at his sides.

_The wound in your chest. That's where it's coming from._

That shithead must have shoved poison into him along with her drill.

The rest of the shinigami caught up and now they piled on, crowding around and stabbing down with their blades, calling out to each other like they'd been the ones to bring him down. Helpless, Ichigo could do absolutely nothing to stop them as Zangetsu's goo became a flow trying to keep up with the all the damage being done. Ichigo watched it blankly. The poison…

_…is similar to the drug that was stopping you from moving initially. I would suggest that it's manufactured from Kurotsuchi's zanpakutō._

Because that's what Kurotsuchi's zanpakutō did. How could he have forgotten? And how come the drug had stopped working before?

His thoughts were like molasses, piling up on top of each other and then oozing down, but he thought he remembered something. Claws. His hands had been claws and his skin was thicker than usual-

_I was able to use blut vene to prevent the drug from entering your system, but you only escaped because Zangetsu took over. Ichigo-_

Ossan's voice suddenly fell silent. The shinigami had stopped attacking and, as they pulled back, they left an empty space in front of Ichigo, a space quickly filled by blood-spattered tabi and black hakama. 

A hand grabbed Ichigo's hair, yanking his head back painfully and he found himself face to face with an enraged Kurotsuchi Mayuri. "If there's one thing I loath," the scientist spat, "it's a lab-rat that doesn't know its place." Very slowly and deliberately, he drew his zanpakutō from its sheath on the front of his obi. "Rip, Azisogi jizō," he hissed. The blade split into three and a bulbous face appeared on the guard, its mouth spilling vapour the same purple colour as the drug from before. Kurotsuchi pulled the blade back, and then slashed forwards, slicing Ichigo across the chest. 

It hardly hurt, thanks to Zangetsu, and white goo spilled out immediately along the gash, healing it away to nothing. Kurotsuchi made a sound like a cat being strangled, tightened his grip on Ichigo's hair and started dragging him down the corridor. Ichigo went without a fight. It wasn't like he had a choice, with his body numb from top to toe and Kurotsuchi's fingers still twisted in his hair. All he could hope was that his scalp held out, though Zangetsu would probably just heal that as well. Was there going to be any of the original him left by the end of this?

"Nemu!" Kurotsuchi yelled as shinigami scattered before him like leaves in an autumn breeze. "Set up lab three immediately and prepare a double strength solution of the muscle inhibitor. And you, stop dilly-dallying and bring me that trolley!" As he hauled Ichigo's inert body up onto it, his lip curled into a cruel sneer. "We'll administer the drug directly into the thoracic venal system. See how far you manage to get then."

Round one to Kurotsuchi.

They didn't go back half as far as Ichigo had run. Instead, Kurotsuchi turned off into one of the labs along the first corridor, though lab was probably stretching the definition. Torture chamber was what immediately sprang to mind. Something to do with the sheer amount of chains and shackles and the way the whole lot was bolted to the ceiling and the floors. 

Ichigo was unceremoniously tipped off the trolley, then three shinigami shackled, chained and hooked every part of him they could attach something to, and hauled him up so he was dangling from the ceiling. His feet did reach the floor, though it didn't help any with taking the pressure off his arms since his legs weren't working. And all the while he was being chained, other shinigami, the ones with white coats, hurried in out, wheeling monitors and other bits of machinery. By the time Ichigo was strung up like a side of beef, Kurotsuchi was back to pouring over his gadgets and muttering to himself as he compared readings. 

Ichigo tried to bring himself to care, he really did. But the numbness seemed to have spread inward as well as through his body, rendering him half brain-dead, it felt like. Every thought took an age to organise, and he couldn't summon up enough energy to think about trying to fight, even if he had been able to move.

_It's a side effect of the rapid healing,_ Ossan said. _Although you're not feeling it as such, your body is under a lot of stress. There's a limit to how much it can stand, and that, combined with the poison and the lingering effects of the drug, are enough to create this… dissociative state._

Dissociative. Ichigo rolled the word around in his mind. That was how he felt. Like he wasn't quite connecting with his body any longer.

A sharp punch to the ribs brought him back to himself a little and he opened his eyes to see a metal tube sticking out of his chest. A Nemu was attaching something to the end of it, a length of tubing which lead back to - guess what - more of that purple drug, this time in a glass jar that was stood on a rack way out of Ichigo's reach. Apparently they weren't taking any chances this time.

_Ossan?_ he murmured. 

_I'm sorry, Ichigo, the tube is connected to a major blood-vessel. There's no way of stopping the drug entering your system without starving your brain of oxygen._

So that means of escape was gone.

_Zangetsu?_

_They break it, I'll fix it. Ain't much more than that I can do. Sorry, king._

Then he had no choice but to deal. Hells, he'd managed last time. How much worse could it get?

The Nemu was fiddling with something next to the glass jar. Ichigo had been following her movements for several seconds before he realised he was holding his own head up and turning it. Some level of muscle control was returning, at least above the neck. He stretched it some, and worked his jaw, trying to ease out the cramps. Neither the Nemu nor Kurotsuchi took any notice, and why would they. It wasn't like he was going anywhere soon, not chained up the way he was and drugged up to the eyeballs. He could probably speak again too, though he wasn't going to try it. There was no point drawing their attention any earlier than he had to.

"He's conscious, Mayuri-sama," a voice said from behind him. Another Nemu, and so much for not attracting attention.

"I'm perfectly aware of that," Kurotsuchi snapped, his eyes not leaving the screen. He waved a hand in Ichigo's general direction. "Check all the bindings. Those fools can't be trusted to do anything right and I don't want to lose another laboratory to incompetence."

In answer, hands tugged and pried at the shackles. Ichigo tried not to move his head too much, hoping they'd assume he was still pretty much incapacitated. Once the Nemu was done, she moved away and Kurotsuchi came and stood a metre or so in front of Ichigo. From his fingers dangled a blue teardrop shaped bottle which he swung slowly from side to side. 

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, as if Ichigo knew anything about anything at the 12th. Or would want to. "Oh, don't worry," he continued, "It's not lethal. Not exactly." He pulled the glass stopper, which turned out to have a dropper on the end, and held it up to the light. Even in such a small amount, the liquid glowed a translucent gold. "Let's just say that it'll make you super-human. Or in your case, a super-monster." A wide grin stretched his lips as he laughed at his own joke. 

"The effect is quite simple, even for someone of your limited intellect. It duplicates that state of heightened awareness only those at the peak of their powers can achieve, allowing anyone to experience it for themselves." Kurotsuchi cocked his head, studying the stuff. "Of course, normally one would use it as a supplement during battle, however I have discovered another use for it, one which is really quite fascinating." His gaze lowered to meet Ichigo's. "Nemu, infuse the subject with a zero point four percent dose of the median dilution."

A flurry of movement over by the jar. For the longest moment after that, nothing happened at all, and then Ichigo realised he could feel a raw soreness around his ribs, the type of pain that came from being healed too fast. Next was his head, where Kurotsuchi had half-scalped him dragging him down the corridor. That was a deep burning ache that blossomed into a full-on raging fire when Kurotsuchi grabbed it again and yanked his head up. 

Ichigo grunted, then cursed silently as Kurotsuchi grinned even wider, his teeth like yellow tombstones. "I see it's beginning to work."

Beginning? Shit. 

Then the other little damages, the small cuts and bruises that Zangetsu hadn't bothered to heal, began to throb and pulse, like so many bad toothaches all over his body. And that wasn't all. Odd twinges sprang up in his legs and arms, and the right side of his face began to shoot little bolts of agony like really bad pins and needles.

Kurotsuchi's grip changed from hair to collar, and he hauled Ichigo slightly more upright, startling a gasp out of him as everything zinged back varying messages of discomfort. "Yes," he said, "This is was I was talking about. Pain is an interesting phenomenon." 

Not really wanting to know, Ichigo tried not to listen, but apparently his ears and brain had other ideas. They focused in on the words, absorbing everything. 

"It's not always dependent upon injury. There is also pain generated randomly by the nervous system, and that caused by a misreading by the brain of other sensory input." 

Were the lights in the room getting brighter? Ichigo's eyes stung and then burned, tearing up, and when those tears hit his cheeks they felt like salt on raw skin. He shook his head, trying to get rid of them, but that just made his brain pound in hangover from hell style. 

"That's what this drug does. It heightens the senses to such an extent that a simple touch, for example, can become incomprehensible agony." Kurotsuchi's finger dragged down Ichigo's inner elbow. It was just a finger, Ichigo could see it was, but it felt like he was being laid open with a scalpel.

"The more tender the part," the finger moved to his sternum and acid scorched its way to his groin, "the greater the pain. And of course," Ichigo began to shake, he couldn't help it, "the harder the contact-" nails flicked across the tip of his dick. Ichigo screamed.

The pain from before was as nothing compared to this. As Kurotsuchi continued, his touches burning acid across cock and balls, down along taint and up into ass, words fell from Ichigo's lips that he couldn't have stopped had his life depended upon it. "Stop," and "Help me," and "Please," and "No!" and "Why?" 

"Why am I doing this?" he heard Kurotsuchi reply through the red and black dancing through his brain. "Because I can, and because you destroyed one of my laboratories. But primarily because I want to see exactly how much damage a monster like you can tolerate."

The thrust of the drill came from nowhere and the world exploded into light and fire. Ichigo felt his mind begin to shatter, to pull away from the body that was the source of so much agony, only to be dragged back by Kurotsuchi's hand clamped over his mouth and nose, starving him of air and forcing him to move or suffocate. 

Eyes blurred with tears, Ichigo jerked his head, his brain a slush-pile of noise and smells, burning up his senses in a world gone totally insane.

_Ichigo._ Ossan's voice broke through the thunder, still and quiet. _Ichigo, you must let go._

_Can't. Kill me._ And he couldn't die. Someone was going to come for him. They were. He had to believe that otherwise all of this had been for nothing.

_King._ Zangetsu. _Remember the thing about a king and his horse?_

That again? In the depths of his mind, Ichigo sighed silently. _Instinct,_ he said.

_Well, yeah,_ Zangetsu replied, _But it's more than just that._

Ichigo had no idea what Zangetsu was on about. He was losing it, losing the fight, himself, everything. Disassociating. Becoming disconnected from his body. Dying. 

_Thing is, the whole point of the horse is that it does the heavy lifting._ Zangetsu's words were rock-like in their surety, and Ichigo felt himself being gently eased aside. This time, there was no dip into limbo, no hanging around. He fell straight through into his inner world, and as he went, he heard Zangetsu saying, _Let me deal with this. There's some shit that hollows are just better at handling._

*

Byakuya turned in a slow circle, studying the geography of his inner world. At first glance, nothing appeared different. The striped tent still stood behind him, strong and sturdy, and around it, stretching from horizon to horizon, lay the battlefield littered with skeletons, now missing their armour, of course, but lying where they had always lain. And yet something had changed, he could feel it. He just couldn't identify what. There was no direction to it, no sensory clue he could discover. The closest he could come to the sensation was the creeping sense of unease that used to permeate the estate when his uncle was due home.

With a final glance at the sky, he shook off his apprehension as best he could. After all, he was here to train, not to fret about unsubstantiated feelings, and if he kept wool-gathering for too long, he might lose the effects of the drugs. He could feel them now, coursing through his veins, giving a much-needed boost to focus and concentration that had been so crippled by Senbonzakura's loss. 

In fact, yes, that was probably all this strange feeling was. He'd not tried taking two pills before, so it was no wonder his inner world felt changed. 

With the tent to his back, he lifted his arms and willed a block of ten skeletons to rise. Once they were stable, he added another ten, and then doubled the numbers once again. The massed ranks moved easily under his command, manoeuvring through complex formations with no hesitation at all and, when he unleashed their byakurai, not a one faltered. 

Byakuya took a breath, and allowed himself a small sense of satisfaction. It would take time and perseverance, but with these forty serving as the backbone of his brigade, he would soon have the whole army marching once again. Exactly what that would mean should Ichigo ever manage to supply the promised asauchi, he couldn't imagine, but at least he was doing something. Renji would be pleased. 

Perhaps he should tell him. 

Byakuya gave the idea serious consideration. It would mean speaking in depth about his inner world, a taboo for any civilised shinigami. But perhaps Renji wouldn't mind that. He had always been far more flexible in his outlook than Byakuya. And it would be an excellent opportunity to explain more fully what had happened with Senbonzakura. He was fairly sure Renji believed the zanpakutō merely broken, not completely gone, and that mistaken assumption should definitely be corrected for both their sakes. 

He could even tell Renji about Aizen, and Central 46. And about the deal Byakuya had done with Muramasa all those years ago to exact vengeance for his clan…

Byakuya shuddered. No, that was too much. It was a tale he knew he had to tell, but to do it more than once was unthinkable. And it wasn't as though Renji could do anything, stuck as he was in the living world. Better to remain silent for now and allow Renji to think whatever he wanted. There would be time enough later, once Ichigo was with them, and Byakuya could tell them both at once.

*

It had been over a week, and Renji still hadn't broached the subject of oaths with Byakuya. Between him spending every waking moment in Karakura, training with Zabimaru, and door duty every night, there hadn't really been time. And those few occasions when he had been alone with Byakuya, the moment had never seemed right. Then again, it was probably his own fault, because he had no clue how to say, 'you hijacked part of my soul, you bastard, and I still ended up falling in love with you'. Though, to be honest, there was less anger and more curiosity about the whole thing now.

If Byakuya did possess part of his soul, enough to allow him to try and steal Zabimaru, what else would it allow him to do? Could he maybe help with breaking through the seal that was holding them apart? It'd be hellish risky to try, that was for sure, given Byakuya's tendency to go all 'hungry ghost' when he got near Zabimaru, but being outside the seal might give him leverage Renji didn't have access to.

Pondering the pros and cons of even asking, Renji exited the lift in the basement of Karakura Hospital and headed towards the safe-room. It was early morning, his belly was full of the onigiri he'd wolfed down on the way and he was looking forward to a long training session. Now that was something else Byakuya might be able to help with. Training alone was okay but it was no substitute for a skilled sparring partner. 

Then again, that would mean letting Byakuya out of his gigai and, no. Just, no. If that was the only choice then Renji'd just have to wait for Ichigo to visit. And how sad was it that he was more looking forward to seeing his lover so they could fight than he was for the sex.

Deep in his own thought's, Renji had just set foot inside the storeroom when a deep voice intoned, "Abarai Renji." Renji leapt about half a foot in the air, grabbing for Zabimaru, which wasn't there because he was still in his gigai, damn it, as Rukia, Hisana's scarily identical little sister, emerged from behind the stacked boxes.

"Holy shit!" he croaked as his heart did its level best to thump its way out of his chest. Then it gave another jump, for an entirely different reason. "Where's Ichigo? What's happened?"

At his sudden turn to the serious, Rukia's grin softened slightly. "Oh stop panicking, everything's fine," she said, then, expression turning quizzical, she added, "Or at least it was when I last saw him. Mind you, that was awhile ago, so goodness knows what the idiot's gone and got himself into by now. I mean, he was holding a meeting of the True First Clan-heads in his house the evening I left, so he's bound to have put his foot in something with them."

That sounded like Ichigo. Still, Rukia's answer unwound something inside Renji he'd hardly realised was coiled tight. Pushing past her to quickly shift boxes, he said, "So how come it's you visiting and not him."

Rukia wrinkled her nose and grabbed a couple of boxes herself. "Because Shiba-taichō-sama doesn't have the time to sit around outside the Kyōraku estate waiting for a chance to use the senkaimon. The place has been heaving with builders and shinigami for a fortnight. They're doing it up." 

That was odd. "I thought Kyōraku-taichō hated the place." Renji tugged the Quincy glove from his back-pocket and dumped the gigai, tucking it under one arm as he pressed his thumb to the lock-plate. He grinned when it clicked open. That never going to get old.

"He does," Rukia replied, ducking inside when he gestured for her to go first. "But apparently taichō- That is, Ukitake-taichō - insisted they go back there for new year and I only just got out before their whole entourage arrived."

"New year?" Renji did a quick tot up of days in his head as he followed her in. "That was over a week ago. What took you so long?"

Rukia's cheeks coloured up spectacularly and she looked away, humming, "I might have accidentally gotten chased by the cleaner- Hey!" she said, at Renji inarticulate sound of panic, "I dealt. It wasn't a problem. And I only got thrown forward a few days."

That explained why she'd not arrived sooner. Even so, "You were lucky. It could have been a year, or a thousand."

"I know." Rukia's face turned sombre, "But with the place so crowded, I couldn't pick and choose when to enter the dangai, and Ichigo was desperate for you to get this." She pulled a small parcel from the front of her shihakushō and held it out. "So it was a calculated risk."

The hell could be so important that Rukia would risk her life to deliver it?

Hesitantly, Renji reached for the parcel. For some reason, his mouth felt dry and his hands were on the verge of shaking. Which was ridiculous. If Ichigo was telling them to take a hike, he'd have done it when he was here, not through a letter. Ichigo wasn't the type to do that. Plus, all things considered, it'd been a pretty good visit. Okay, there'd been the almost fight over Renji's scars, and Byakuya breaking down and crying everywhere, and Ichigo himself having to go early and- Shit, he was depressing himself. 

He grabbed the parcel from Rukia's hand and with one sweep of his thumb, broke the seal. Several letters fell out, only one of which was addressed to him and Byakuya. Of the others, one had Ichigo's name printed on it. His old name, Renji noted, not Shiba, and the others were addressed to someone called Goto Harin, who appeared to live in Akiruno, which Renji was fairly sure was just up the road from Karakura. 

Dropping those letters on the floor, and putting a foot over them so they didn't get lost, he ripped open the one with his and Byakuya's names on it and quickly scanned through it. Halfway down, he had to stop and start again at the beginning, because honestly, he couldn't actually believe what he was reading.

_Dear Renji and Byakuya_ , it began, and then, because Ichigo had no manners, it launched straight into the meat of what he wanted to say. _I thought a lot on the way home about how you guys are living in that tiny room, not being able to go out or do anything all day, and I wanted to do something to help. I know I gave you the names of some friends - and I hope you contacted Mizuiro, Renji. If you didn't you're even dumber than you look - but the kind of work you're going to be able to get without documentation isn't going to pay you enough for somewhere decent to live. Anyway, I had an idea and, for once, it's paid off. Hah, see Byakuya, I can get my plans to work!_

_Thing is, my uncle and cousin used to live in Naruki-shi and, at the point I died, they still hadn't been declared dead, officially. Apparently it's kind of a complicated process, but anyway, basically what it meant was that their place should still be unoccupied, as in no one living in it, which means it's available for someone else to use, like you two! I'd have given you the go ahead to move in straight away, except I couldn't, what with you guys being shinigami and Oji-san being Quincy and everything. So I asked and he said - actually, I'll just stick his letter in the envelope with all the rest. The one you want is the one addressed to me. I reckon you'll get a laugh out of what he says._

The letter ended, _It was really great seeing you guys. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can,_ and was signed simply, _Ichigo._

Hands now really shaking, and desperately trying not to get his hopes up because no way would Ichigo tease them like this if his uncle had said no, Renji tucked the letter from Ichigo into his sleeve, and grabbed the right one off the floor. 

That started far more formally and the handwriting was painfully neat. Renji scanned the usual bits about weather and health, noting in passing that the little sneak from the 10th, Rikichi, had had a bit of a set back but that it was being treated successfully, and finally found what he was looking for.

_On the matter of the apartment,_ it said, _Though it galls me to hand anything over to a shinigami, there can be no doubt that I owe your Abarai-kun a great debt. Without his actions, I would have lost both my son and my nephew to that despicable creature, and for that I am immeasurably grateful. If giving him and his friend a place to live goes some way towards repaying this debt, then I have no choice but to both metaphorically and literally hand over the keys to my home._

_To that end I have enclosed several letters to my lawyer, Goto Harin, in Akiruno City. Tell your friends to arrange a meeting with her immediately to hand over the letters. Once she has been appraised of the situation, she will organise whatever documentation is necessary for them to take possession of the apartment and any funds still held in the Ishida name. Though it's far from being a fortune, it should enable your friends to make a decent life amongst humans. And if it does not, then they were undoubtedly beyond saving anyway._

Renji skimmed to the end, over the bit about Ichigo not sending his little sister to ask for favours that he should have the guts to ask for himself, and read the signature, _Ishida Ryūken_ , Ichigo's uncle. 

"Good news?"

Dizzily, Renji glanced up at Rukia, still not quite able to absorb the news. The Quincy's dad had given them his apartment. And his money. They could leave the Red Iris. Tell that asshole Mendori where he could shove his attitude! Spend every day training. Renji grinned. "Hell, yeah." He handed over the letters for Rukia to read for herself. It was easier than trying to explain what was going on and she had almost got 'cleanered' delivering them, so it seemed only fair. 

She read them quickly, flicking between the two, and when she got to the end, she glanced up at him, frowning. "This Ishida Ryūken, he's Ichigo's uncle?"

"Er, yeah?" Oops, had Rukia not known about Ichigo's family? Renji had kind of assumed that she did, since she was delivering letters from him and everything. 

"And he's a Quincy, living in Rukongai?" Renji nodded and she continued, "That's really dumb. If anyone caught them. The 12th…" 

Her words trailed off. Renji shrugged, not needing the blanks filled in. You didn't need to have been alive at the time to know what the 12th had done to the Quincy. "Me and Ichigo rescued his son from Kurotsuchi. That's when I got caught-" He stopped, frowning as a specific memory came back to him. "Hang on, you were there, that day when Ichigo tried to face down the old man."

"I knew you were caught at the 12th, idiot," Rukia scoffed, " But I had no idea you'd gone in there to rescue a Quincy!" She glanced down at the letters again, ruffling the pages, and her voice took on a more sombre note as she said, "It looks like it paid off though. A house and money. You're lucky."

"Don't I know it," Renji agreed, taking the letters and refolding them to put them away. They probably ought to stay here, in the safe-room, away from Mendori and his prying eyes, though he might keep the one from Ichigo in his shihakushō. Just because. 

"Where is Byakuya, anyway?" Rukia asked, totally out of the blue.

"Working," Renji replied automatically as he unfolded Ichigo's letter for one last look. The resulting silence lasted several seconds before Renji noticed it and looked up. Rukia was staring at him like he'd just slapped her with a wet fish. "What?" he said.

"He's working?" she croaked. "What as?"

"Security," Renji said, adding as an afterthought, "At a club."

"Oh," she said, taking a second to digest the information and then nodding. "Okay, yeah, that makes sense. He'd kick anyone's ass if they got out of line." She smirked. "I bet he terrifies the customers with his ice-prince routine."

Renji shrugged, finally tucking Ichigo's letter inside the front of his shihakushō. "Not so much. Most of them are women, and they think he's cute."

"Cute?" said Rukia, frowning slightly. "Hang on, you've got Kuchiki Byakuya-taichō-sama working at a Host Club?!" 

"Erm… ye-ah," Renji replied, feeling more than a bit hunted.

Rukia's expression held on aghast for a long second before she collapsed in laughter. "Oh my gods, Renji, what have you done! Can you imagine his family if they found out! They'd shit!"

Renji stared at her for a second, his brain working overtime delivering images of the Kuchiki being given the news. She was right. They would shit. Or would have done before Byakuya slaughtered Central 46 and brought dishonour down on all their heads. Now, they'd probably think it was exactly what he deserved. Still, Renji tried to smile some, since Rukia seemed to find the idea amusing. And, to be honest, it was kind of funny. 

"Anyway," she said after a moment or two, still smothering giggles, "I've got to get back. Everyone at the 6th will be wondering where I've got to."

"You can't stay?" Renji asked hopefully. He waggled Zabimaru. "We could spar." 

For a moment Rukia looked torn. "Tempting, but no," she said finally. "However, I can take messages back to Ichigo." She paused significantly before adding, "Repeatable ones only." 

Renji smirked. "I'll save your blushes. Just tell him to get his ass here as soon as he can." 

"I'm not even going to ask what for," Rukia said, with a shake of her head. She turned towards the door before stopping and glancing back at Renji. "So, I'm really glad you two have got somewhere else to live but, this time, leave me a note with the new address when you leave. I was stuck waiting out there for hours."

"Ah, sorry, sorry." Renji rubbed the back of his neck. "I should have thought."

"Eh, it's nothing." Rukia waved a hand as she ducked out through the door. "Enjoy your new love nest. Oh, and tell Byakuya I bet he makes a really cute host!" 

Her laughter filtered back down the corridor. Renji shook his head, already decided that that was one message that was never going to get delivered, before he remembered his manners. Hurriedly he dodged out into the corridor. "Hey, Rukia!" he yelled, seeing her stop just outside the lift. "Thanks. For bringing the letters."

She waved again, and then she was gone. Renji turned and headed back inside the room to grab the gigai. He had an important phone call to make, and needed a solid body to do it in.


	19. Death of Smile. Kiss Me

Renji had been scrupulous about getting back to the club on time all week, so as to avoid a repetition of Byakuya having to do door duty. Today he made it back early. It was only just after two when he hurried excitedly towards the Red Iris, his steps quickening as the club came into view. For once, things were going well. He had an appointment with the lawyer - not until Monday, sure, which did leave an entire weekend for things to go tits-up, but… Renji growled under his breath. He was trying to be optimistic here, damn it. This was going to be good. It was going to change things. Once they had a proper place to live, Renji would have time and space to train whenever he wanted, and Byakuya would finally be able to rest and heal his zanpakutō. Maybe they could even get their relationship sorted out. Renji was fed up spending half his life scared of the man he loved.

Straight-arming the main door open, he headed through the entrance hall and into the club proper, hoping to find Byakuya up in their room, or at least alone, so he could pass on the good news in private. Instead he found him in pink rubber gloves - which was in no way an adorable look - busily scrubbing tables, while Lee and Mendori stood gossiping at the bar. There was no sign of Nic, and the sound system was in disassembled pieces all over the dance floor.

"Problem?" Renji asked glancing at it. Not that he was desperate to know, but he might be able to use it as an excuse to get Byakuya out of there. He'd like to go for good, but they couldn't afford to burn this bridge just yet. Not with no other options if the lawyer didn't pan out.

Mendori and Lee looked up, then over at the mess. Lee shrugged. "The tech's playing up. Nic reckons he can fix it. If not, we'll just have to get your girlfriend to sing for us again." 

His grin was awful. Renji hated him all over again. Then his words sank in. "Byakuya, sing?" Renji glanced over at Byakuya, wishing he was closer so they could share the joke. "He can't-"

 _"I want to be loved, but you don't seem to love me."_

The song rolled out towards Renji, stopping his words dead, because Byakuya was singing. It wasn't the best voice Renji had ever heard but it definitely wasn't the worst either. It sounded real, from the heart. 

And those lyrics.

 _"I keep going round and round on that same thought and there's only one answer I've found; even when I'm scared or hurt, I need to tell the person that I love, 'I love you.'"_

Byakuya was just cleaning as he sang, bent over the table, his gloved hands moving as he apparently unwittingly made Renji fall in love with him all over again simply by singing him a pop song. 

_"Do you love me? Or not love me? I guess it doesn't matter either way. No matter what I wish, there's some things in the world that just aren't changeable, right? Yeah, that's right, and my unchangeable truth is that I love you."_

It wasn't even about him, Renji knew that. But it could be, and the thought that it might, that Byakuya did actually care that much about him, beyond the other bonds that tied them together, took Renji's breath away. He'd thought he was alone in this, he realised. Sure Byakuya had said that he loved Renji, but it had always been in that aloof way of his, like an offering down from the heavens, and Renji… Renji had always been the one looking up, the dog howling at the unreachable moon.

 _"I want to overcome those thousands of nights and tell you."_

He had to know. 

_"There's something that I must tell you- "_

"Byakuya?" Renji's voice sounded harsh, choked, in the too-small yet impersonally-large space of the club. 

Byakuya turned towards him and his eyes… The old saying went that the eyes are the mirrors of the soul. If there was even a scrap of truth in that then Renji was looking into the eyes of a man who did truly love him. His breath caught. Two strides took him to Byakuya's side and Renji swept him up into a kiss. Byakuya rose to meet him, hands catching the front of Renji's shirt, then up to his collar, his neck. The heat of it was almost terrifying, considering what had passed between them recently, but it wasn't hungry in the same way, or demanding of his soul. It was want of an entirely different kind, and one Renji had hardly known he'd missed until it was here again, in his arms.

The kiss deepened, and would have gone further if Mendori hadn't snarled, "Oh, for fuck's sake that's disgusting."

Crap, Renji had totally forgotten they had an audience. 

"No worse than you getting some from your latest bit," came Nic's distinctive low voice. He must have reappeared at some point.

Renji eased out of the kiss, his hands on Byakuya's arms and, taking a deep breath, opened eyes he hadn't realised he'd closed. Byakuya was staring up at him, amazement written all over his face. It was such a blunt emotion, and so unlike Byakuya to show something like it, that for a second Renji frowned. Byakuya's expression immediately closed and he went to turn away.

"Don't," Renji said quietly, stopping him. "We need to talk. Ichigo-"

"Take it the fuck upstairs," Mendori interrupted. "And keep the frigging noise down. I don't wanna hear princess screaming your fucking name, Abarai."

The nickname sliced through Renji's last nerve like Zabimaru through a hollow's mask. Renji turned, jaw tightening. "His name is Byakuya, you fucking arse," he said. 

"What did you just call me?" Mendori demanded, stubbing out his cigarette and rising from his bar stool. 

"An arse. Want to hear some more? How about shithead. Dick for brains, piss features!" He was ragging on the guy, he knew, but Renji couldn't stop himself. Not now there was a good chance they had somewhere else to go. And if it fell through? Fuck it, they'd manage somehow.

Mendori's face was turning purple. Maybe if Renji kept up the insults, he'd stroke out before he could fire them. "You arrogant stinking little fag," he snarled, reaching for something under the bar. 

That damned katana. Renji's lip curled. Right then, just let the bastard try it. Renji had lost count of the number of hours he'd trained bare-handed against a blade.

Sure enough Mendori came up with his sword, steel hissing as he drew. Renji watched, unimpressed, as Mendori advanced across the room, both hands around the katana's hilt. Not a bad grip per se, but if he was supposed to be intimidated, the guy had a ways to go before he reached Seireitei standards. "Ya wanna have a go, asshole, I'm right here," Renji told him, gesturing with his fingers. "Come on. Let's see who's got the biggest set."

With a roar, Mendori attacked. He was fast for his age and build. Faster than Renji had been expecting. The blade skimmed beneath Renji's chin as he leaned avoid it, already swinging with his own fist, up and under Mendori's guard, and no way was this one going to miss. Renji hadn't survived Rukongai, the camps, the Gotei, and Byakuya's bed without knowing how to land a decent punch.

Mendori's nose crunched under Renji's fist. Blood gushed, but Mendori kept on coming. The guy had cojones, that was for sure. Renji blocked the next slice high with his forearm hard against Mendori's wrists. The force of it rattled Renji's bones and it must have numbed Mendori's hands because the sword flew out of them, spinning off to clatter to the ground somewhere nearby. Mendori didn't let that stop him. It turned out he was good with his feet too and Renji had to quickly tuck to block the kick aimed at his ribs. On the upside, that had Mendori off balance and Renji punched, fist flying towards Mendori's temple, a stunning blow if he could land it. Mendori ducked, wove and came up under Renji's longer reach, and his punch was a doozy, catching Renji right in the solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs. 

Renji hunched over it, hands up to protect his face, elbows tucked to stop the worst. Sharp one-twos hit home hard enough that he was gonna be purple tonight, but it wasn't anything he couldn't deal with. The moment he could, he sucked in a lungful air, danced a step sideways and snapped out a straight-armed rabbit punch right into Mendori's neck.

Mendori's knees went from under him like someone had cut his strings. As he went down, Renji caught him and cupped a hand protectively around his neck as he lowered him carefully to the floor, then checked the guy's breathing; it was fast, but even and not noisy. The blow had knocked him out, not killed him, thank crap. Still, his neck might still be broken. They wouldn't know for sure until he woke up. 

If he did. Crap, the guy was human. Could humans even survive this kind of damage? 

"We should get him to a hospital," Renji said, looking up. 

Everyone was staring at him. Including Akio-chan, who was standing in the doorway to the second floor stairs, with a very shocked looking guy with a bad comb-over toting a briefcase behind her.

"Erm…" Renji said, pushing up from the floor. "I can explain."

"Mendori had it coming," Nic said. "He's been a total shit to Byakuya ever since they started working here." He gave Renji a level look. "If you hadn't have punched him, I would have."

"Ah, thanks, I guess?" Renji replied, his eyes fixing back on Akio. Mendori was her guy, probably assigned to her by her father, and Renji had just almost killed him. With a single punch. A new apartment might not be enough. Running his tongue over suddenly dry lips, Renji said, "But I'm still sorry. He might have had it coming, but no way should I have punched him that hard."

Finally Akio reacted. But instead of shouting as Renji thought she might, she ignored everything that had just been said and done and, taking the final step down into the bar, said to the man behind her, "Please excuse the chaos, Haida-san." 

"N-not a problem," the man replied, scuttling after her, gaze darting all over but being drawn back again and again to Mendori, who was still lying in the middle of the floor, eyes half-closed and blood dribbling from his nose to pool under his cheek.

"We'll be in touch if anything comes up," Akio continued. "I have your address and phone number." 

Haida-san didn't look reassured at that, but he bobbed a bow, and followed Lee when he offered to escort him out. 

Only once Haida-san had gone did Akio turn to face the rest of them, eyes narrow and lips tight. "Daddy's going to freak," she snapped at Renji. "Then he's going to take one of your fingers for fighting on the job." Her gaze cut to Mendori. "He'll have one of his too, if he survives."

"Fingers?" Renji's hand curled into a defensive fist. Was she serious? He'd heard that yakuza did stuff like that, but he thought it was only for proper members, not employees. Anyway, he needed all his fingers. How could he hold Zabimaru properly without them.

Hang on, why the hell was he panicking? He was in a gigai. 

Then again these gigai weren't from the 12th, and that taser thing had done a number on Zabimaru, so it probably made sense to be careful, just in case.

"If that's the punishment, he can have one of my fingers," Byakuya said, apparently taking the threat seriously too. He pushed Renji aside. "Since it was my fault that Renji was fighting in the first place." 

Akio looked doubtful. "I guess it'll be up to you two to work out the details," she said, but that seemed to be that. She turned to Nic. "Call Miuchi-sensei and tell him to keep it quiet. I don't want a huge fuss. You two," she turned back to Renji and Byakuya, "on the door. If anyone wants to come in, they can't. This is a no entry zone until the doctor's been, got it?"

Times like this, Akio really reminded Renji of Hisana. He snapped a bow and, glancing back at Mendori just to check he was still breathing, hurried outside.

It had started raining, of course, and he only had his new green shirt on. His hoodie was inside with the rest of his clothes. He pressed back under the overhang, glaring at the sky, and said, "No way I'm letting them cut anything off you." He'd leave sooner than let that happen.

Byakuya stepped out through the door. "If we can't avoid it, it makes more sense for it to be me than you. Zabimaru is far more of a melee type."

That was true, but it still stuck in Renji's craw. "You're always using your zanpakutō sealed," he shot back. "Plus, you're a captain. You've got to be in top form."

"I'm not a captain. I do not even currently have a zanpakutō." Considering the subject matter, Byakuya's voice was surprisingly level. "Renji, this is logical and you know it."

Renji snorted. "The most logical thing to do is to run like hell in that direction and not stop till we get to Karakura." It wasn't like they couldn't, and if it looked like the knives were about to come out, that's exactly what they would do. 

"What about money and employment?" Byakuya asked. 

Hopefully not a problem, not anymore. Still, Byakuya had sidled closer, so his arm rested against Renji's, and it was kind of sweet, and also warm, so rather than get into it about the visit from Rukia, Renji gave him a half smile and said, "We'd manage somehow. Maybe you could take up singing as a career."

Byakuya's expression turned thoughtful. 

"I was kidding," Renji said hurriedly.

"Oh." Byakuya's face fell. "You didn't like it?"

"I loved it but, you know, I love you, so I might be a bit biased."

"Do you really?" Byakuya asked. "After everything I've done?" 

The twinge of desperate hope in his voice made Renji huff. "Yeah well, I worked out that it kinda wasn't completely your fault," he said, adding quickly, "Not that that makes any of it mine, or lets you off the hook. You were still an ass."

"I was, and I'm sorry. If you give me another chance, Renji, I swear-"

Renji cut that one off with a finger across thin lips. "No more oaths," he said. "Ya never know what they might lead to."

Blazing grey eyes overflowing with emotion held his for long enough that Renji was seriously starting to wonder what was what, then Byakuya tugged the hand away and said, "If you insist. However I wish to register a protest. You deserve better." 

"Sure I do," Renji nodded, "Also, don't start thinking another chance means things going back to the way they were, because it don't. I'm still the boss of you." 

"I wouldn't want them to go back," Byakuya replied immediately. "I don't want to be left on the outside anymore."

Outside? Of what? The only thing Byakuya could be referring to was him and Ichigo which… Yeah, okay, Renji got it now. "You mean you want to end up in a headlock getting a noogie?"

Byakuya's expression twisted into distaste. "Perhaps not that," he said doubtfully, which was wonderfully, perfectly Kuchiki Byakuya. 

Renji laughed, reassured. "Meet us halfway and me and Ichigo won't have a problem," he said, meaning it. "And, hey, speaking of Ichigo-"

A squeal of tyres at the end of the block cut the conversation off before it could start. Renji glanced over and had enough time to think, 'car,' and 'holy shit, that's going fast', before the vehicle mounted the pavement and skidded to halt about a foot away from them. The man in the bright red tracksuit who leapt out of the front was familiar, not that Renji was really thinking that. He was too interested in making a grab for the guy before he could storm past them into the club.

"Whoa! Where the hell d'you think you're going," Renji shouted, hanging on to an arm. "Club's closed."

The man just kept walking, yelling something in some language Renji didn't understand and dragging Renji behind him. He was a big guy, dark-skinned yellow hair - Zommari, the taxi driver, Renji realised with a flash of what the hell! He'd been here just the other day. But why was he back, and what had him so freaked out?

Byakuya was suddenly there in front of Zommari, hand up to stop him. Zommari kept coming, but stopped short when Byakuya's palm hit his chest. He seemed to pace against it, weaving back and forth but not pushing past, like a combination of Renji's grip on his arm and Byakuya's hand on his chest was just enough to slow him down but not stop him moving entirely. Not that he was seeing either of them. He was still totally focused on the club as his language changed to Japanese and Renji finally got the gist of what he was on about. "Bastards!" Zommari was yelling, "I know you've got her! Give her back!"

Okay, this was getting weirder and weirder. 

"If you're talking about Unagiya Ikumi," Byakuya replied like he knew what the fuck Zommari was talking about. "They have her, but she's not being held here and if you insist on-"

It must have been the 'They have her' part because Zommari's focus suddenly switched to Byakuya. A big hand grabbed the front of Byakuya's hoodie and hauled him up by several inches. Renji expected a violent reaction, some neat hakuda type move that'd put Zommari on his knees. Instead, Byakuya's hand just came to rest over Zommari's wrist as Zommari glared down at him.

"Where is she?" Zommari demanded. If he did recognise them, he gave no indication of it.

"I don't know," Byakuya told him seriously, "But we might be able to find out. However, if you don't leave now, they're going to come out here and then you won't be in a position to even try to find your wife."

Byakuya was talking about the woman who'd been getting into Zommari's taxi the other night. The one who'd been targeted for Iba's army. 

Renji's heart sank. He really hadn't wanted to get involved in this. It was too dangerous. But now Akio had just gone and made it personal, and whereas Renji was really good at ignoring shitty situations happening to strangers, he had a real problem when they happened to people he knew. And Zommari counted. The guy had been good to them on the trip out to Karakura from the airport.

Zommari seemed torn about trusting them. Teeth worrying at his lip, his eyes kept darting from Byakuya to the club and back again.

"He's telling the truth," Renji said, slowly letting go of Zommari's sleeve. "Honestly, she's not here. Byakuya's been around all the time and if she had been here, he'd have seen her."

The name must have jogged something loose in Zommari's memory. He frowned at Byakuya, then back over his shoulder at Renji. "You're those guys," he said. "Those dead blokes from the airport. Is this more of that weirdo shit?"

"Kind of," Renji replied, making calm down gestures. Zommari wasn't being as loud as he had been before, but if anyone inside overheard talk about him and Byakuya being dead… Well, anyone except Akio-chan would probably think Zommari was nuts, but it was better not to take chances. "But this is a really bad place to talk about it."

"So I'll take you somewhere good," Zommari said, grabbing Byakuya by the upper arm and basically walking off with him. 

"Oi!" Renji yelled, refraining from adding, 'come back with my boyfriend,' since it sounded a bit dumb even to his own ears. 

That, of course, was when Byakuya used his move. It wasn't much, not more than a step, but Zommari went from hauling Byakuya towards the car to having his own arm twisted up behind his back. He hopped a couple of steps before starting yelling again. "Let me go, you bastard! I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

"You're still here."

Focused on the Byakuya/Zommari combi dancing near the car, Renji nearly leapt a foot in the air at the low statement from behind him. He spun round to find Nic in the club entrance weighed down with two large plastic bags. 

Renji frowned at them, recognising his black hoodie poking out of one. Their stuff. "Course we're still here," he replied finally, once he'd remembered what Nic had said. "Where else would we be? And what are you doing with that lot?"

"Giving it to you, if you want it," Nic said with a shrug. "I dunno why you're still here though. Anyone with half a brain'd be miles away by now. " 

He was staring beyond Renji, presumably at Byakuya and Zommari, so Renji risked a glance back at them. Somehow Byakuya had got Zommari to stop fighting him and the pair were standing beside the small blue car with their arms folded, presumably trying to look innocent. It wasn't working. They couldn't have looked shiftier if they'd tried.

Renji was wondering if he should try making up some explanation when Nic continued in that same low level tone that he always used, "I'd shift it, if I was you. Mendori's waking up and he's spitting mad. Enough that he's gonna try persuading Akio to send someone after you if he can't do it himself." Another shrug. "And anyway, if oyabun hears about this, you guys are gonna be on his hit list. Mendori's like a son to him."

Well shit, that wasn't what Renji wanted to hear. "Did Akio send you out to warn us?" he asked, relieving Nic of their stuff

A lazy shrug. "Not exactly. I just thought you might want your gear. No one said anything about warning anyone. Or about stopping them either." Pushing off the door-jamb, he turned to go back inside.

Renji sighed. Looked like it gonna be a weekend confined to the safe-room then. Still, credit where it was due. "Thanks," he called as Nic headed through the door. "You didn't have to do that." 

Nic paused and looked back. One side of his mouth quirked up into a half-smile. "I know," he said before vanishing back inside.

What the hell, Renji thought. Obscure bastard.

"They're yakuza?" The quiet question came from behind him. Renji turned to find Zommari leaning against the car, looking very weak and wobbly around the edges. 

"Yeah, you didn't know?"

"Shit, I had no idea," Zommari replied, his knees buckling. "What'm I gonna do? Shit, what am I gonna do?" He slid down the side of the car onto his ass and, wide-eyed, stared up at Renji. "And why'd they take Ikumi? She's just an odd-job lady."

"It's complicated," Renji told him, just as Byakuya said, "It has to do with the work she did before you were married."

"Before?" Zommari looked like he wasn't processing properly. "She's only ever done the same thing all the time I've known her."

Byakuya shot a quick glance at Renji, "Could they have mistaken her for someone else?"

"No idea," Renji replied, "but here's not the place to discuss it." Not if Mendori was on the warpath. He opened the back door of the car, chucked the bags in, and pointed at Zommari. "Get yourself in the driver's seat. You're taking us back to your place."

*

At least he had his spare clothes now. As Zommari pulled away from in front of the Red Iris, Renji tugged his old black hoodie out of the bag and pulled it on, snuggling into the fuzzy warmth of it. Who cared if it was still covered in tape residue, it was comfortable and right now he needed that. They were on the run from the freaking yakuza. Kind of. Maybe. To be honest, Akio hadn't seemed that mad at him for knocking Mendori out, so maybe they'd catch a break and she'd get her father to leave them alone

That definitely wouldn't happen if they got involved with Zommari's wife going missing. Damn it all, why did he have to care what happened to her. If they hadn't met Zommari, she'd just be some random woman.

Feeling more than a bit pissed, Renji slumped down in his seat and shoved his hands in his pockets. Today had started out so good, what with Rukia's visit and everything. And now it had gone all to hell. He'd not even got around to telling Byakuya about the apartment yet. 

As the sullen silence in the car grew, Renji stared out the car window, watching buildings whizz by and fiddled with a piece of paper in his pocket. It was a receipt or something, he thought, except receipts weren't normally that big and folded down the middle. Curious, he pulled the paper out and unfolded it. Written on it in black pen was: _If you want to know where the goods are, meet me in the bar of Purrfection at four pm._

Renji stared at the note, his memory replaying Nic's cryptic comment as he'd gone back inside the club. Was the note from him? Mendori thought they were police. If Nic thought the same, could he planning on turning snitch?

"Erm…" Renji said, looking up and accidentally making eye-contact with Zommari in the rear view mirror. "I think you might want to read this."

Immediately, Zommari hauled on the wheel, swerving across a lane of oncoming traffic. Horns blared around them, brakes screeched. In the other front seat, Byakuya yelped, grabbing for the dash, and then they were bouncing up the kerb into a small gravelled parking area.

"Give?" Zommari demanded, reaching for the note before the car had even stopped moving.

Renji handed it over and watched as Zommari skimmed the few words, his expression darkening still further. When he was done, he tossed the note at Renji and reached for the ignition, his movements short and jerky. "I know that place. It's a cat-themed hostess bar down in Kabukichō. Buckle up." 

Renji knew exactly where and what it was too, he walked past it every day on the way to the station. But that was beside the point. "Whoa!" he said, holding up a quelling hand. "Hold on a minute! Where d'you think you're going?" 

Zommari paused, glancing back. His eyes burned, full of banked hatred. "That note isn't about Ikumi?"

"No, it isn't," Renji replied probably more firmly that he should have, since he had no idea if it was about her or not. "People aren't the only thing these guys are exporting."

"But where you find one, you might find the other," Zommari shot back, going for the ignition again. "I'm coming with you." He started the engine.

"Again no." Renji looked at Byakuya in desperation. How to explain this in a way that Zommari might understand?

"It is, in all likelihood a trap," Byakuya said. "And if Renji or I get into difficulties, we have options that you do not."

"You mean dead guy stuff," growled Zommari. Despite the engine running, he'd made no attempt to drive off. He just sat there, staring straight forward, hands gripping the steering wheel. "So you want me to just wait here while you two go rescue my wife?"

"Me one," Renji said. "No way is Byakuya coming with me."

"Renji-" Byakuya began, but Renji was having none of it. "No," he said. "Seriously, no way are we risking you leaving your gigai. Fuck knows what might happen."

Byakuya's already pale face, whitened further and his gaze cut away. Zommari glanced suspiciously between the two of them. "What's a gigai. I've not heard that word before."

"You wouldn't have. It's a dead guy thing," Renji replied. "And it's the reason I'm going not you." He slapped his hand against his chest. "This is fake. If the worst happens, I can dump this body and attack them in soul form."

Zommari's expression cleared slightly with understanding. "Right, like you were before, when people couldn't see you."

"Exactly," Renji said, cracking the car door open. "It's still an hour until the meeting. You two stay here. I'll head back and scope out this club while there's time, see if I can work out if it's a trap or not."

"I still don't get why they'd even want to meet with you," Zommari grumped, obviously reluctant to give up so easily.

"Because, for some crazy reason they think we're police."

"Cops!" Zommari barked a disbelieving laugh. "Not with that ink on your face, mate. Even the hardcore undercover guys look like good little salarymen compared to you."

Renji's hand strayed to his eyebrow tattoos. If that was true, then how come everyone thought that's what they were? "In that case, I have no clue, but it's the only lead we've got so I'm going."

"Make sure you have the phone at least," Byakuya said, eyes still downcast. "Then you can call if you need help. I'm sure Zommari-san has a number."

"I do, I do." Zommari started digging in his pocket. "Reckon everyone's got one these days." He flipped open his phone and read out the number. 

Renji, who had already wrestled his own out of his pocket, quickly typed it in one-handed. "Right," he said, pushing the car door wide. "I guess I'll be back later." 

But before he could climb out, Byakuya grabbed his sleeve, hand pale and thin curling against the black cloth. "Please be careful," he said, his fingers tightening like he was never going to let Renji go. "I know it's unlikely, but it is just possible that the Iba will be there. Or," Byakuya hesitated, "Even someone from the Gotei."

Now that was a possibility that hadn't occurred to Renji. Still, there was no point worrying about ifs and maybes, that never got anyone anywhere. He patted Byakuya's hand. "Hey. I got shikai back. I'll be fine." He jerked his chin towards Zommari, who'd climbed out of the car already. "You look after him. Don't let him do anything stupid, like try and follow me." 

"I can do that," Byakuya said with a firm nod and let go. "Do you want us to wait here or-?"

"Yeah. Hold fire for a couple of hours," Renji said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "I'll make sure to check in before that, let you know what's happening. If I don't call, get Zommari and get the fuck away from this town." Because that would mean Renji had been taken. 

Byakuya seemed to understand the unspoken words. He nodded again, biting his lip and said quietly, "I love you. Please do your best to return."

Two 'I love you's in one day. They must be ice-skating in hell. 

Renji did his best to look reassuring, though he suspected he was just grinning like a sap, and didn't answer. There was nothing he could say. They were both warriors enough to know that you couldn't make promises, not in a situation like this. All you could do was your best.

*

Byakuya climbed out of the car to watch as Renji set off back the way they'd come at a simple human jog. No shunpo, of course, not in a gigai. It seemed to take him forever to leave the parking lot but at the same time it felt like he was gone from Byakuya's sight in an instant. Byakuya longed to go after him. Sitting and waiting was an agony always, made worse by the haunting memory of the last time Renji had gone off without him and the disasters that had followed.

His heart jittered and he wiped his hands down his jeans. His palms were sticky with sweat. The beginnings of the comedown from the pill he'd taken last night, probably. It was about time for him to take another, preparatory to sitting jinzen later, but of course that wasn't going to be possible now. And anyway, all the pills in the world wouldn't permit him to focus on his inner world when Renji was leaving him in this one.

"Damn it," Zommari snarled suddenly, slapping a hand down on the roof of the car. "I should be with him."

Dragging his gaze away from Renji's retreating form, Byakuya bit back a snap of annoyance and tried to remember that this human was in his care. To that end, he gave Zommari an assessing once over. He still appeared somewhat drawn, though his hands had stopped shaking. The shocked rage was wearing off. He would probably crash very soon and, since neither Byakuya nor Renji could drive the car, they would be rendered immobile until he recovered. Not a good thing if a quick getaway was required. 

Back in Seireitei, Byakuya would have recommended a liberal dose of good sake. Perhaps the same thing applied here. "Is there an open bar close by, or a store which sells alcohol?"

Zommari's eyes flicked briefly towards him. "Why? You wanna get drunk?"

"I was thinking more for you. Your body has been running on adrenaline since you discovered your wife's disappearance and you need something to steady your nerves."

Zommari barked a short harsh laugh. "Don't think I've got any nerves left to steady, mate," he said. "Anyway, he might call for a lift and I'm not drinking and driving. The police pull me over and I can kiss goodbye to my cab license and my citizenship, so thanks, but no, I'll manage without." He swung himself back into the car and slammed the door.

Byakuya wasn't entirely sure he'd understood all of that, but it was obvious Zommari had no intention of using alcohol to bolster his nerves. Climbing back into the car himself, he offered a different suggestion. "A tearoom then. Or perhaps you prefer coffee? It seemed to be the drink of choice for everyone at the Red Iris, though personally I find it bitter and unpalatable."

This time Zommari's laugh contained a scrap of dry humour. "Taking this babysitting duty a bit seriously, aren't you. Okay, fine. There's a vending machine just over there. That good enough for you?"

Byakuya attempted to get comfortable in the passenger seat. "It will suffice."

Zommari was as good as his word. He hopped out of the car again, headed over to the vending machine and returned a few minutes later with a can of coffee. He also picked up tea for Byakuya and a selection of onigiri which they shared as they waited for Renji's call. Although Byakuya wasn't particularly hungry, he ate anyway; the movement of hands and jaw and throat easing some of the urgency from his body, allowing him to remain in his seat without fidgeting overly much. 

Of course nothing could help his thoughts, which obstinately returned to Renji.

*

An hour later, Renji was peering out the entrance of an alley opposite Purrfection, watching as several respectable-looking young women came and went. They were probably the hostesses, off-duty at the moment so shopping or on their way to work other jobs. He saw at least one come back with a man in tow, their heads bowed together as they chattered and laughed. The club proper wouldn't open its doors for several hours yet, though the small bar on the ground floor was always open. That's where the meeting would be. It didn't make any sense for it to be anywhere else at four in the afternoon.

He checked the time on his phone. He'd been gone just over an hour. If he didn't ring soon, Byakuya would get worried and Renji didn't want to do that to him, not considering how good things had been between them today.

Zommari picked up on the second ring, answering with a foreign sounding, 'Hey'. 

"Just checking in," Renji replied. "Nothing to report so far." As he spoke, a familiar figure sloped round the corner, hands jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket. "I take it back," Renji said, "Nic's just arrived. Looks like it was him that left the note."

"Is he alone?" This time it was Byakuya's voice on the phone. Renji imagined them sharing it, leaning in close, the handbrake between them. It was a boggling kind of an image, considering just a few weeks ago Byakuya had planned on killing Zommari in cold blood. But then Byakuya had changed a lot since being in the living world, hadn't he.

"Seems to be," Renji said after a moment or two, watching as Nic checked both ways before entering the bar. "He's just gone in. I'll hang out here for a bit and if no one else turns up, I'll follow." He huffed a sigh. "I have _no_ idea how this is gonna play out."

"Just channel every cop show you ever watched," Zommari suggested, unhelpfully.

Byakuya simply said, "Be careful, Renji. Try not to do anything too foolhardy."

That, on the other hand, had been pure Kuchiki-taichō. Renji couldn't help grinning. "Hey, I'm all reformed and careful these days," he said, and heard what could have been a quiet snort from the other end of the phone. "But yeah, I'll keep my eyes open."

"And call us as soon as you're out. We can come and pick you up-"

"Yeah, yeah. Stop fussing." Renji peered up and down the street one last time. "Okay, I'm going in," he said. "Call you when I'm done." He pressed the call-end button with his thumb and set off across the road.

The place was a lot classier on the inside than Renji had expected. The decor ran towards gold and black but was tasteful for all that, and the only sign of anything cat-themed were the white tipped ears poking up through the waitress' hair. Attached to a hair-band, Renji hoped, or else this place was a lot stranger than he'd thought.

She greeted him at the door with a pretty, and totally fake, smile. "Good afternoon, sir. My name is-"

"Er, actually," Renji put in, before she could get started on her spiel, "I'm here to see someone?"

The look she gave him spoke volumes. "Oh," she said. "You're with him." She jerked her chin towards a gold lamé curtain at the back. "He's in there."

Renji nodded his thanks and headed in the direction she'd indicated. It wasn't so much a side room as a curtained off alcove or booth with thickly upholstered seats set around a polished wooden table. Nic sat across one corner, leather jacket across his lap and arms stretched out along the backs of the seats. Renji slid in opposite him, looking around. "Nice place," he said, meaning it. 

Nic shrugged. "Went to high school with one of the girls who works here. So long as it's out of hours, she doesn't care if I use it to do a bit of business."

That dried up that line of conversation. They sat in silence for a long moment, Renji trying not to fidget since police officers probably had nerves of steel in this kind of situation, so he had a reputation to live up to. 

Just when it was getting uncomfortable and Renji was on the point of saying anything just to break the tension, Nic said, "You got the note then."

"And you've got some information," Renji shot back, probably too fast. Damn it, Nic was never going to buy this.

Nic just looked uncomfortable. "Kind of," he said. "Only I'm not really here for me."

The curtain pulled back and before Renji could so much as breathe a word of protest, Hanna and Akio slid into the space beside Nic. His arm immediately settled around Hanna's shoulders, which… made absolutely no sense at all. 

Renji blinked at them. "You're together?" he said, thinking of all the times she'd come on to him.

"Only unofficially," Hanna replied, tossing her head. Her hair was done up in intricate ringlets today, held back on one side by a rose coloured hair-piece. She and Nic together looked almost too pretty. "Daddy doesn't approve. He thinks I should settle down and marry someone respectable."

Akio-chan snorted quietly. "That's what he said to me." 

"Well, exactly!" Hanna said, "And look what you ended up with."

Renji's gaze flicked between them. "Which would be what now?" He didn't think he'd come here for the low down on people's love lives, but then again he'd not been expecting the Kutsuzawa sisters to turn up either, so what did he know.

Akio sighed and pushed a table mat around with her forefinger. "There's no need to pretend. You know very well that I'm married to Mendori Kentarō." 

"Mendori!" Renji laughed in surprise. "The guy's an ass-" he began, then his brain caught up with his mouth. "Ah, no offence."

"None taken," Akio-chan replied with a delicate shrug. "It's true, after all. Though honestly, when he was seventeen, he was really cute."

That must have been a while ago. The guy was a middle-aged thug now. "Okay, but what's that got to do with the note?" Renji asked, glancing at Nic. "I'm assuming they were in on the note?"

"We were," Akio said. She looked up, her gaze sliding over Renji's face. "Sorry for being all cloak and dagger, but Daddy would have a fit if he caught us chatting to you like this."

"Because I'm a cop?" Renji said hesitantly.

Hanna let out a loud peal of laughter. "Police! Don't be stupid, no one thinks you're the police!"

"Hush," Akio chided her with a worried glance at the curtained doorway. "Someone will hear you."

"I don't care if they do," Hanna hissed. "I'm fed up with all this cloak and dagger stuff, it's been going on for months."

"And now it's nearly over, so let's not mess up, okay?" Akio turned back to Renji. "We've been expecting someone to infiltrate ever since Mizuiro-kun started snooping around. When he introduced you two, I got someone to look into your backgrounds and neither of you exist. Which means you might be cops, but with tattoos like that, you can't be law enforcement from here."

"You're returnees. It's the only explanation," Hanna put in, twirling a ringlet around her finger. "And, by the way, your language teacher was crap. Byakuya sounds like my granddad."

Akio gave her an annoyed look but continued, "You're probably seconded from the American NSA, at a guess, and you're investigating because this ridiculous exporting ring daddy's got caught up in is some kind of international thing." 

Who the hell were the American NSA? Renji had absolutely no clue, though if it got him the info he wanted about Unagiya-san, he wasn't going to complain. In fact, he was going to play it for all it was worth. Adopting a serious tone, he said, "I can't give details, but the Iba are a very serious threat to national security." 

The way their expressions changed told him he'd scored a hit. Hah! Cop shows might not be his thing but he'd heard enough government people on the television news to know kind of what to say.

"So what are they really, some kind of terrorist organisation?" Hanna asked, looking torn between curious and disgusted. "They look Japanese, but that doesn't mean anything. They could just be front men."

"It doesn't matter what they are," Akio snapped. "What's important is that we get daddy out of it before he ends up dead." She huffed at her sister and turned back to Renji. "The rest of the organisation is losing patience with him, all this business about them being ghosts or death gods or whatever rubbish it is they've been filling his head with." Her face twisted and she slapped a hand over her mouth. "And he believes them. Why? How can he when it doesn't make any sense?"

"I told ya, it's feeding into his delusions," Nic said, the first thing he'd contributed to the conversation since the women arrived. He glanced over at Renji. "Schizophrenia. It's a mental thing that makes people believe all sorts of shit. I read about it on the internet."

Akio seemed to be trying not to cry. She was leaning against her sister and Hanna had her arm around her, making comforting noises. Renji watched them, piecing together what they'd said. They thought he was some kind of international security bod, that Iba was a terrorist, and that Kutsuzawa was mad. In other words, they had no idea what they were dealing with, which meant no way were they involved with the Gotei. 

The knife-edge of nerves Renji hadn't realised he'd been walking suddenly evened out into a reassuringly flat plain of 'only humans'. Them he could deal with, no problem.

A lot more relaxed now, he sat back and looked from one to the other. "So, what exactly do you want me to do about this?" he asked.

Nic and Hanna exchanged glances, then Hanna said, "Get him some help. We've tried to talk to him and he won't listen. If he's arrested-" 

Akio let out a huge sob and Hanna immediately turned all her attention on her sister. Nic took up the thread. "They want you lot to make sure he doesn't just get chucked in prison. He needs to be in a hospital getting some kind of treatment."

"And in return?" 

Another sob from Akio. She grabbed her bag and shot out of the booth, her tearful gasps audible even after she'd gone. Hanna mouthed an apology at Nic and followed her, almost colliding with a waitress as she went out. The waitress, who had a tail as well as ears, dipped a couple of apologetic bows at her, before coming into the booth. 

"Your drinks," she said, giving Nic a coquettish smile as she put her tray down. He smiled back, his gaze kind of lingering as she leaned over to unload glasses, cans and bottles.

"The friend from school?" Renji asked once she'd gone. Not that it was any of his business but he couldn't help wondering how many other women Nic was stringing along, and whether Hanna knew about them. On the other hand, being with Nic didn't seem to stop her.

Nic smirked and shrugged. "What can I say. Girl's still got a crush." He reached for the drinks. "No alcohol, right?" he said, pushing a shot glass and a small bottle of off-white liquid in Renji's direction.

"Right," Renji replied, squinting at the label. 'Bikkle', it said. He'd seen it a few times in vending machines, and had always decided discretion was the better part of valour. There were some seriously strange flavoured drinks in some of those things. Like chocolate and aloe and something called Pocari Sweat. He'd never dared try that one either.

The top of the bottle was already loosened, so Renji emptied the contents into the glass and gave the drink a cautious sniff. It smelled kind of sweet, almost like red bean porridge, but milky. Not normally his kind of thing but, since it was all that was on offer, he was prepared to be convinced. "So, you were telling me what I got in exchange for taking care of your loony problem."

A grimace twisted Nic's full lips, though his eyes didn't stray from the beer he was pouring. "Don't talk shit about the boss. Guy can't help his head being messed up." 

So there was some genuine concern there. Nic wasn't just in this for what he could get. That earned him a modicum of respect. "My apologies," Renji said and took a quick swig of his drink. The mild saltiness on top of the sweet was surprising, but the tangy aftertaste was good. He took another.

Nic huffed and muttered, "No need to be so formal, geez." He finished pouring his beer and put the bottle down. "It goes like this. You promise to take care of oyabun and you guys get the skinny on where the stuff's stashed."

Not good enough. " _All_ the stuff?" Renji pressed. 

That earned him a narrow eyed look over the glass of beer. "Ya talking about the special items being collected for export, right?"

"Right." If by special items Nic meant people, and Renji suspected he did.

Nic took a sip of his drink, frowning like he was thinking it through. "I dunno. I mean goods is one thing, but he gets picked up fer that kinda job-"

"It won't matter," Renji interrupted, pulling on long hours of listening to Byakuya doing deals. Offer the guy what he wants to hear and worry about the details afterwards. He sat forward slightly, glass clasped between his hands. "So long as we get what we want, which is _all_ the goods safe and back where they should be, no one's gonna be talking prison time. Not for some guy who's got trouble upstairs."

"Right." Nic looked sceptical. "And that just happens on your say-so, does it? You don't gotta clear it with your boss or anything."

Shit, Renji hadn't thought it through that far. Scrambling to keep his cover, he fumbled his phone out of his pocket and held it up. "Pretty sure he'll be good with it, but I can call him. Double check," he offered, trying to put a decent face on it. Worst case scenario, he could phone Zommari's number and hope Nic didn't want to speak to this 'boss' in person.

But before he could start dialling, Nic flashed him a grin. "Put it away. I'm just screwing with ya." He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. "I know you'll just trot off back to Karakura tomorrow and check in, like you do everyday." He snorted. "Visiting a dojo. Good cover, man, but hospitals tend to be a bit light on martial arts facilities."

They'd been following him. And he'd never suspected a thing. Renji took a big swig of his drink to cover a sudden fit of nerves. Sure they were all human and couldn't hurt him even if they wanted to, but if _they'd_ been following him, who else could have? And what about the other people they might have seen him with, like Arisawa-sensei. Poor guy had already lost his home thanks to getting involved with them.

"Clever though," Nic went on. "Making the check-ins there rather than a police station or whatever. Not that we'd expect anything less from Kojima. I mean, shit, what kinda division chief uses his own son to insert guys undercover." Nic shivered. "That's cold."

Renji frowned. He was missing something here. If him and Byakuya were the undercover guys, was Nic talking about Mizuiro?

He might have asked for clarification, except Hanna reappeared at that moment, bringing with her a waft of perfumed air. She slipped back into the seat beside Nic, who sat up straight again. "Is your sister okay?" he asked.

Hanna nodded. "She's just powdering her nose." She reached out and long nails tapped on metal as she helped herself to one of the cans, something bright green that hissed and smelled sharp when she opened it. "How's it going?" she asked, pouring the drink into a tall glass with a gold straw and a neon pink stirrer in it.

"We're only five minutes in but I reckon we're getting somewhere," Nic replied. He had a slight dimple when he smiled. Renji had never noticed that before. And his hair curled just behind his ear.

Clearing his throat, Renji tried to bring the conversation back on track. "Does that mean you're finally gonna tell me what I want to know?" 

Nic flicked a glance at him. "Not here," he said and jerked his chin at the curtain. 

Just in case they were overheard. That made sense. Though Renji wasn't altogether happy at the idea of going anywhere else. "Got somewhere in mind?" he asked.

"Just upstairs," Hanna said. "We'll go when Akio-chan gets back. It'll be fun." Elbows on the table, she'd propped her chin on the backs of her hands and was chasing the straw with her mouth. When she caught it, she sucked it in, all the while gazing at Renji with hot knowing eyes. 

A zing of arousal shot through Renji and he gulped down the rest of his drink, forcing himself to break eye contact with her. Nic was talking about some kind of music thing, maybe the broken system at the club? Renji tried to listen but his gaze kept straying back to Hanna, and the way her mouth looked sucking on that straw and how her fingers caressed the smooth sides of the glass. 

Was this the hidden cost of getting Unagiya back? Renji wouldn't put it past Hanna to try, even with her boyfriend sitting right beside her. 

More to the point, was it a price he was willing to pay? 

If you'd asked him before he came in here, he'd have answered with a categorical no. Now though he was starting to have second thoughts. She was so pretty, and honestly Nic was really cute too. Together, if they were interested…

Renji shifted in his seat. He should probably say something, about how it'd be okay with him if that was what they had in mind, but he was never very good in situations like this. Byakuya had always been the one to find the extras for their bed, and Renji had just gone along with whoever he chose. And before Byakuya… Well, mostly Renji had been too tired to screw around, being a trainee shinigami and all, but on the odd occasion he had, it'd been quick, mutual and over almost before it started. There'd never been anything like negotiations.

The curtain pulled back again and Akio-chan entered. Taking one look at Hanna and Nic sitting together, she slipped in beside Renji. "Hi," she said, smiling up at him. Apart from a little redness around her eyes, she looked totally over her crying jag. She'd also reapplied her lipstick, and her mouth looked ripe enough to eat. 

Renji dragged his gaze away. "Hey," he said. "I think one of those is for you." He indicated the drinks still left on the table.

"Oh, chardonnay chūhai!" Akio pounced on a silver can sweating in the warmth of the club. Like her sister's drink, Akio's smelt sharp when she popped the lid, but the liquid was as clear as fresh spring water when she poured. Bubbles formed instantly, fizzing and spinning, clinging to the sides of the glass or teaming up into swirling threads that shot to the top of the drink and exploded. Renji stared at it, mesmerised. If they did that inside his mouth, it'd feel amazing!

He grabbed the drink and took a gulp, and wow! He was right. Bubbles! "This is really cool!" he announced, grinning at the others, because they really needed to know exactly how cool it was. They were staring at him, like maybe he'd done something wrong. Renji frowned, momentarily disheartened until, right! Of course! He held out the glass. "Seriously, you should try it."

Beside him, Akio suddenly giggled, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. 

"Don't do that," Renji said. "Your smile's too pretty to hide."

Over the other side of the table, Hanna hissed, "I knew it. Queer like hell, it was just a cover story." 

Renji hardly heard her. He was more interested in Akio and her smile. "You really think it's pretty?" she asked, and she was laughing at him, definitely. But Renji didn't care. He felt too good to care. 

"Sure it is." Now he glanced over Hanna. "So's your sister's. She's very pretty too." The next part he wasn't sure he wanted Hanna to hear, so he leaned down closer to Akio to better whisper in her ear. Her hair brushed against his nose as he said, "But she scares me a little bit too, you know." 

He tried to keep his voice down, but he must've screwed up, because Nic snorted a laugh and said, "You ain't the only one."

"Hey!" Hanna protested, whapping Nic on the arm. He caught her hand, and they wrestled a little before he caught her in a hug, that turned into a kiss. 

Renji watched them, entranced, as their mouths moved against each other, lips shifting and stroking. So intimate, so erotic. He could see tongue…

Someone touched his arm. He jumped and looked down. Akio-chan smiled up at him. "We should go upstairs, don't you think?" she said.

Renji glanced back at Hanna and Nic. He had his hands in her hair, and Renji could almost feel the soft strands through his own fingers. He wanted that. Fuck, he wanted that so much. "Yeah," he said. "Let's go upstairs."

*

For a while after Renji's call, Zommari sat there, staring out through the windshield, his hands clamped around the car's steering-wheel. Every now and then, he'd almost say something, only to subside again with a huff of expelled air. He undoubtedly wanted details about what had happened to his wife, and each time he almost spoke, Byakuya braced himself for some difficult questions, wondering if telling Zommari more about Soul Society would make his worry worse or less.

Finally though, when Zommari did summon up some words, they were only a suggestion that they listen to music. Byakuya concurred swiftly, anything to reduce the tension in the vehicle to tolerable levels. Even so, when the phone rang two hours and twenty minutes later, Byakuya pounced on it, certain that it had to be Renji asking to be picked up. 

The voice on the other end of the telephone however was not Renji's. It was a woman's. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "I thought this was Zommari-san's number."

"Ah, my apologies," Byakuya replied. "He's right here." He held out the phone to Zommari, who was leaning forward to switch off the radio.

Zommari took the phone with a questioning look and answered with a polite, "Hello?" followed quickly by, "Oh, Misaki-obaasan. Please, hang on a moment?" He glanced over at Byakuya, said, "I've gotta take this. Back in a sec," and climbed out of the car, leaving Byakuya to wonder why that hadn't been Renji calling and why he was so late coming back.

Had something happened? He'd seemed quite sure of himself when he checked in. 

Then again, this was Renji, the foolhardy idiot who'd followed Ichigo into the 12th without thought for himself or any consequences. And Byakuya loved him for it. That unquenchable spirit that both he and Ichigo possessed that enabled them to shout a giant 'fuck you' at anything that got in their way and fight on regardless of the opinions of others. It was a strength so different from his own and these days Byakuya quite happily acknowledged that he was a better man for having it, and them, in his life. Left to his own devices, he knew he would hedge himself around with so many rules and regulations that eventually all autonomous thought would be extinguished. That was impossible with Renji and Ichigo on his case. 

And he'd come so close to losing them, so many times. Most of his own devising. Again and again he'd pushed them away, and they always pushed back, making him see what he'd missed, not taking any excuses. Just the thought of losing either of them now made something inside him feel like it was about to shatter.

He pressed fingertips to his temples. His head was beginning to throb. The final remnants of the pills he'd taken last night were wearing off and he could feel the familiar confusion starting to return. Not the extreme version engendered by Renji's presence, but the vague fuzziness that he'd thought normal until the pills showed him otherwise. 

The car door opened. Byakuya looked up as Zommari got back into the driver's seat. He put the phone back on the dashboard and huffed out a heavy breath. "How long d'you reckon it's gonna take him to get back," he asked after a second of staring at passing cars.

"I was wondering much the same myself," Byakuya confessed. "Perhaps we should phone him to confirm his plans."

"Could be risky," Zommari replied, though he made no other argument against the idea. 

Byakuya frowned at him. Zommari was looking straight ahead, his hands resting on the steering wheel. There was a faint tremor to them again, and the tension lines around his mouth had returned. Whoever the call had been from, it had upset him.

"And riskier still not to." Byakuya picked up the phone and tried to remember how to find the right number on it. But the exact process escaped him and he found himself sitting there staring uselessly at the complex electrical gadget.

After a second or two, Zommari leaned over and took it from his unresisting hands. "Give it here," he said, quickly pressing a series of buttons. The phone made a couple of chirruping noises and then a tinny voice that was definitely not Renji's said, "I'm sorry, this phone is not answering. Leave a message after the beep and press sharp."

"Erm," Zommari said. "It's us, I guess. I mean, I really wasn't expecting you to have switched off your phone, but okay. Call us, yeah?" Then he pressed another key, lowered the phone and looked at Byakuya.

Byakuya stared back, hardly able to breathe. There was no way Renji would have voluntarily switched his phone off, which meant either that someone had switched it off for him, or that the phone itself had been destroyed. If they were back home, he would know. A hell butterfly not finding its intended recipient would return immediately with a situation report. Never had Byakuya missed Seireitei so much.

"We need to go to that club," he said, but Zommari was already moving. He tossed the phone at Byakuya and dragged on his seatbelt. Byakuya did the same, only just snapping it into place before Zommari was accelerating out of the parking lot. 

The traffic was heavy and they'd only been on the road for only a couple of minutes, travelling jerkily between sets of traffic lights, when Zommari suddenly said, "I was thinking, I reckon Ikumi might have worked for one of those big corporations back before I met her. Someone like Hitachi or Mitsubishi. Think it's something to do with that that they want her for?"

He must have been thinking about his wife and these were the words he'd been looking for earlier. There was nothing quite like adrenalin to add clarity to one's thinking, although Byakuya was finding it difficult to focus on anything beyond Renji right at this moment. Still, he did his best to consider what Zommari had said. If nothing else it was better than circling around and around the same terror and hope-filled loop as he tried to reason out why Renji might be incommunicado.

It was true that he'd seen both those names on all kinds of machinery since he'd been in the living world, though none of them had been weapons. In fact, Byakuya had seen very few real weapons during his time here, despite television programmes being full of them. With the exception of Mendori, even katana seemed rare these days. It was a drastic change to his last visit when every other human had seemed to be carrying a gun, often alongside a sword or tanto. They'd been well-used too, though their wielders had had a variable amount of skill.

But that was getting away from the subject at hand. He struggled to focus again. "Do those companies make weapons?" he asked tentatively. "The Iba seemed eager for people who could operate such things."

Zommari shrugged. "Don't know," he said, then frowned over at Byakuya. "Iba? They some kind of terrorist thing?"

As Byakuya understood it, a terrorist was a person who used fear and intimidation to attain their goals. Could the Iba be defined as such? Perhaps. Their methods certainly fell into that category, but defining them so might not be helpful in this context. "Not as such," he said after a moment. "They are also yakuza, though based in Seireitei rather than the living world."

"Dead bloke yakuza have got my wife?!" Zommari yelped, and the car swerved violently. 

Byakuya snatched at the dashboard as a concrete bridge support loomed briefly in front of them. "Yes, but she should be fine. She's not the only person the Iba have targeted, so they will not risk killing her-"

"Killing?!" Zommari yelled. The car swerved the other way. Byakuya gave serious thought to grabbing the wheel but closed his eyes instead. It wasn't like a car accident would actually kill him. Unless his head was cut off. He slid lower in his seat as Zommari continued, "You said those yakuza bastards needed her! No one said they were going to kill her!"

"I'm sorry you misunderstood." It was amazing the serenity that came with not being able to see the oncoming cars, traffic controls and random bits of infrastructure. "However, as I was saying, the Iba will not kill her until they are ready to send all the people they have identified through to Soul Society. To do otherwise would attract the wrong kind of attention." Hollows, for one, and quite possibly the Gotei.

There was silence for a long moment, then the sound of the tyres changed to something grittier and the car slowed to a stop. Byakuya risked opening his eyes and peered around. They were parked outside a large shop with colourful posters plastering the windows and Zommari was leaning against the steering wheel, his head bracketed by clenched fists. He was obviously very upset again. He probably needed comforting. 

Byakuya patted him on the shoulder. "Try not to worry. Renji will find out where she is," he said. "He is very resourceful." And definitely alive. Surely Byakuya would know if he wasn't.

"And then what?" Zommari whispered. "If you rescue her, they know where we live. They'll just come after her again and next time they might just kill all of us."

That was actually a likely scenario. It would be the most efficient method, but mentioning that probably wouldn't help Zommari feel any better. There wasn't much that would. Byakuya sought for something to say and ended up falling back on a partial truth. "We have contacts in Seireitei. Once they connect with us again, we can inform them of this plot and the Iba end of the problem can be terminated."

"Terminated?" Zommari laughed harshly, though going by its slightly wet tone, Byakuya suspected there might be tears mixed in. "What are you, the bloody yakuza cops?"

"Hardly," Byakuya replied. "In my experience, they are better left to govern themselves. However in this case, they have overstepped their bounds. The living world is the responsibility of the Gotei 13 and that will be enforced."

"Right, so if they were grabbing folks like this through in dead bloke country, you wouldn't care?"

"If they were commoners, they would be the responsibility of their employers or sponsors," Byakuya informed him irritably. "The Gotei would only act if shinigami were targeted."

Zommari rolled his head on the wheel so he was staring at Byakuya over his hands and, sure enough, his eyes were wet. But he didn't look upset now. If anything he looked annoyed. Byakuya knew the feeling. Time was ticking and they were sitting here discussing irrelevancies. 

"What about your police?" Zommari asked. "Don't they care? Or do they only give a toss if you've got money?"

Byakuya tried to give that serious consideration, but his thoughts kept jumping around. He frowned with effort. What he needed was another pill. "Probably the closest thing in Seireitei to your concept of the 'police' are the onmitsukidō and they serve a different function. They are more concerned with plots against the nobility or Central 46. Now please, I understand you are upset by all this, but I need to get to Renji!" 

The last came out much more stridently than he'd intended, however it did make Zommari sit up and start moving. Putting the car back into gear, he pulled out of the parking lot and back into the flow of traffic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the song lyrics come from Byakuya and Renji's Bleach beats duet. Yes, I'm a sap. No regrets!


	20. Fear Not Here

Byakuya's hand was on the door to the club when Zommari broke their self-imposed silence. "Look," he said, putting a hand out to stop Byakuya entering, "If something's happened to Renji and the folks in here are in on it, they're not gonna give us any straight answers. So, how about you let me deal with whoever's on the door, while you go and have a quiet poke around, see if there's any sign of him."

"Why you?" Byakuya demanded, pressing fingertips to his temple. His headache had intensified during the drive and the last thing he wanted was to rub shoulders with the unwashed masses inside a noisy club. Standing at the door would be discomfort enough. 

"Because you'll blend in better than me," Zommari replied seriously. 

Byakuya glared up at him, all the way up, into vivid blue eyes set in a dark face crowned with bright blond hair. In Seireitei, Zommari would have turned many heads with those looks, but only because they were a striking combination. In Tokyo, on the other hand, he stood out like a sore thumb. "You may have a point," Byakuya conceded grumpily and stepped aside to allow Zommari to enter first.

Zommari thumped into the club, shoving the front door wide open, and beamed at the girl inside, who shrank back from him. "Hey, pretty little catgirl," he boomed, his accent suddenly strongly foreign. "Wanna have some fun?" 

Staff and customers alike stopped what they were doing to stare and, while every eye in the place was on Zommari, Byakuya slid past him and into the club proper. It was as he'd feared, noisy, though not that crowded. It was early yet, he supposed, however that didn't stop it from stinking of stale smoke and alcohol. Feeling faintly nauseous from the mixed effects of strobe lighting and ear-thumping music, Byakuya picked his way between tables, peering into shadowy corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of Renji or Nic. Or failing either of them, someone else they knew.

Though the club was well over three times the size of the Red Iris, the small number of customers made them easy to rule out quickly, which was a good thing because, over by the front door, Zommari's performance of 'foreigner on a night out' was becoming increasingly loud. It was only a matter of time before he was either forcefully ejected from the premises or the police were called. Possibly both. 

In desperation, Byakuya headed for the bar. Zommari had said not to ask questions, but Renji had definitely told them that he was coming in here, so surely someone had to at least have seen him!

"Excuse me," Byakuya called to the man behind the bar. "I'm looking for someone specific."

The bartender flicked long hair from his eyes and glanced over. He was washing glasses in a sink and had the look of someone who would rather be sleeping than at work. "You and most of the guys in here," he said, which was probably some clever quip. As usual it was beyond Byakuya's ability to fathom. 

Irritated by the bartender's attitude, Byakuya tried again, this time more brusquely. "A tall man with red hair and tattoos on his face."

That earned him an impolite sneer. "You want something like that, try somewhere else. This place is girls only."

And this conversation was going nowhere fast. Why couldn't humans make sense when they spoke! 

Frustrated beyond bearing it, Byakuya was on the verge of simply yelling Renji's name until someone in this awful place finally acknowledged that he had been here at some point, when a waitress came up beside him and put something on the bar. "Stick this in lost and found, will you?" she called over the throbbing bass. 

It was the Quincy glove, which Renji was supposed to keep on his person as a last ditch defence if he was attacked.

Byakuya reached for it, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell them it was Renji's, when something made him change his mind. "Actually," he said, "that's mine." He grabbed the glove and walked away without looking back. He'd wanted proof that Renji had been here, and now he had it. The fact that Renji was here no longer and the barman hadn't instantly recognised him from the description, meant they would get no further joy from these people. Luckily, Byakuya now had exactly what he needed to find Renji anyway.

No one bothered to follow. Byakuya slipped from the club, managing to catch Zommari's eye as he went, and headed straight back to where they'd left the car in a small parking lot behind a set of shops. Zommari caught up a minute or so later, trotting up the road with a disgruntled expression on his face. "Any luck?" he asked.

"Of a kind," Byakuya replied, and showed him the glove. "This was at the club. It's the device which enables Renji to leave his gigai."

Looking at it, Zommari pursed his lips and blew out a breath. "Not something he was gonna leave behind then."

"Precisely," Byakuya replied. "However it is something I can use to find him."

Zommari frowned. "I thought Renji said you were supposed to stay in your gigai."

Annoying, irritatingly bright, human. "Which I would do," Byakuya replied snippily, "If circumstances hadn't dictated otherwise." And since the risk had mainly been to Renji, and Renji wasn't around… Byakuya opened the car door. "I will extricate myself here, however you will need to secure my gigai inside the car while I'm away."

"Why, is it gonna try and walk off or something?" Zommari asked.

A fair question. "Quite the opposite, actually," Byakuya replied, slipping his hand into the glove. "It will look rather like a dead body, so I would suggest lying it on the back seat."

"Got it." Zommari glanced around. "You wanna go ahead and do it now? 'Cause the last thing I need is someone seeing me with a thing like that. They'd have me deported so fast my passport'd have skid marks."

The charge in the glove was, theoretically speaking, quite easy to apply. With Renji firmly in his thoughts, Byakuya placed his hand on his own chest and tapped. Reiatsu surged, the gigai gave way and suddenly Byakuya was shattering, flying apart with no centre to hold him together, his oneness shredding in the winds of need that tore through him, driving him at once up and away, and in and down. 

Lights, coloured and flashing. Sounds. Music maybe. A deep throbbing note that clung to his ears as he was swirled through space and on again, driven, searching. The sky, blue-black and neon, then white and the world shimmered into tentative focus. 

He was in a room. Windows filled one wall and a vast bed filled the centre. On it were bodies: writhing, twisting, naked bodies tangled in scarlet sheets. Men, women… Renji! 

Every atom of Byakuya's being arrowed in on that one figure on the bed. He was… glorious. Through eyes that saw colours that could not possibly exist and experienced them on levels never dreamed possible, Byakuya beheld Renji painted in the most exquisite agony. Surrounded by passion, threaded through with racing madness, his body flamed, his soul burned, and deep within him lay a kernel of pure power that drew Byakuya like the brightest of lamps before a night-ridden moth. 

He was moving towards it before he even registered it was possible for him to move at all, the power calling to him, a siren's song that wove a net about him that was as irresistible as it was beautiful. 

None of the others even sensed he was there. He passed through them, a ghost unnoticed, and placed a hand on Renji's heaving belly. All he had to do was reach inside and-

Found himself running over desolate sands. Around him, the horizon stretched forever, the sky overhead an arch of brilliant blue, the sun beating down, scorching the air so hot that it sucked the very air from his lungs. Still he ran, that same siren call somewhere up ahead, and he would not be denied. Closer. Closer again, feet fleet across dusty sand, until suddenly a hole opened beneath him and he was falling-

Into white fog that snatched at his hair and clothes with sticky icy fingers. Colour blazed in the whiteness. A flash of orange. A startled face. A name, _Ichigo_. Shapes loomed, there and gone as he arrowed forward, blind to everything except that pulsing compelling power. 

He landed on slick flat ice, sliding forward, momentum unstoppable. It was close. He could smell it. Taste it. His body hungered, his mouth watering with the need to take and consume. 

There! 

Skidding the final few steps, he slammed shoulder first into something solid. A wall of ice, and trapped within, his prize.

A bestial cry arose from his throat. Thwarted!

But it did not have to be so. Path denied, he would cut his own. The sōren sōkatsui lit his hands afire and then blasted the ice into glass-sharp shards that exploded in all directions, slicing into his face and neck and hands even as yet more melted away to water or evaporated into steam. 

And always ahead, the power. The thing he craved. No, this was more than craving. This was need, this was necessity. This was a part of his soul that had been torn away and he would do anything, _anything_ , to get it back.

The last of the ice crumbled, and there it was, lying at his feet, twisted and broken, its chest stuttering as it fought to breathe. The power. 

Buried inside a hollow. 

For the briefest moment, Byakuya hesitated, because how could this be what he needed? How could this creature, this beast of instinct and malice, be a part of him?

And yet it was. There was no denying it. And if it made him a monster, then so be it.

He lunged for the hollow, more kidō exploding from his hands, and as the two of them touched, the universe turned inside out.

*

"Was that Byakuya?" Ichigo demanded, stopping in his tracks to stare after the wraith-like figure that had appeared in the Senzaikyū doorway only to vanish off into the mist just as quickly. It had looked like Byakuya, kind of, except weirdly see-through.

In his head, Ossan hummed noncommittally, which told Ichigo squat. Par for the course really.

Glancing up the stairs to where the Quincy spirit was still engaged in his battle with Tsukishima's mist, Ichigo rubbed his chest. It ached. Had ached since Zangetsu had decided to play freaking martyr and boot him out of his own body, and then trap him here in his inner world by closing off the connection between them. For fuck's sake, Ichigo hadn't known they even _had_ a connection like that.

It was weird how you could not know something existed until it was gone.

Weirder still that it could hurt so much to lose it.

But there was no point in dwelling, because that way led to remembering and Ichigo was better off not thinking about any of that shit right now. Bad enough it was going to haunt his nightmares. 

With a last glance up at Ossan, he headed towards the door of the Senzaikyū in the hopes of being able to work out for himself where ghost-Byakuya had gone.

 _Be careful,_ Ossan said, apparently willing to micro-manage Ichigo's behaviour even if he wasn't up for answering straightforward questions. 

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo replied dismissively, though still making sure to keep his distance from the misty tendrils that periodically quested through the open doorway. There was no sign of Byakuya, of course. No sign of anything except white, white and more fucking white. But using his eyes wasn't the only way to see things in his inner world. When he'd been looking for Ossan, he'd searched for the Quincy's reiatsu and it had appeared as a white ribbon. Maybe he could do the same with Byakuya.

Ichigo closed his eyes and opened himself up to anything coming from outside the tower. Immediately he was swamped with that same low buzz of reiryoku he'd sensed the last time. The mist. That, he had to ignore.

Calmly, Ichigo breathed, allowing the reiryoku to resolve into a blizzard of red ribbons. From there it was a matter of focusing down hard, trying to find the one he needed, which wasn't going to be as easy as it had been with Ossan. For a start, being shinigami, Byakuya's ribbon would be as red as all the others, so all Ichigo could do was rely on instinct or intuition or dumb luck as he searched blindly for something just a little bit off, something not quite the same as all the rest. 

Just when his head was starting to pound, he caught a glimpse of what just had to be the right one. Twisted and frayed like it was stretched too thin, Ichigo immediately strained after it, even knowing he was coming perilously close to touching the others, which wasn't exactly recommended since they were all potentially contaminated with Tsukishima's BFF virus.

He was just about to grab it when the ground shook as a massive explosion went off nearby. Ichigo threw himself backwards to avoid pitching headfirst out through the doorway, and ended up on his ass. "What the hell?" he yelled, covering his head as the ceiling rained dust and small rocks. A moment later, the world lurched and Ichigo's stomach flip-flopped, like he'd just dropped from the fiftieth floor to the first.

"Seriously, what the fucking hell!" he reiterated, rolling to his feet.

Earthquake? Could inner worlds even have earthquakes? It didn't seem very likely, but what did he know.

Ossan appeared, and though it was difficult to tell given the bandaging across the spirit's face, he seemed worried. And if Ossan looked worried, then Ichigo felt he had a reason to feel that way too. 

"Problem?" Ichigo asked.

Grey eyes narrowed, though the Quincy didn't answer. Ichigo decided to take that as a yes, or at least a strong maybe. 

He cast a look out into the dense white fog. The last time Byakuya had turned up in Ichigo's inner world, he'd gone after Zangetsu. Could he be doing the same thing again? Ichigo might not be able to sense the zanpakutō spirit; hadn't even seen him since he'd been trapped here; but Zangetsu had to be hiding out there somewhere. Would he be able to defend himself if Byakuya attacked?

Normally Ichigo would have utter faith in his asshole of a hollow. But not right now. Not with Zangetsu taking the strain as Kurotsuchi did his best to torture Ichigo to death.

"We've got to go help him," Ichigo said, glancing sideways Ossan. "The explosion wasn't far away. Can you stop the mist getting me if you come with?"

For a long second Ossan didn't answer, then he said, _If I do, we will lose this place, and you will be unable to return to your inner world until you find some way of reversing Tsukishima's power._

So it was do or die. Great. Ichigo loved odds like that. He thrived under them. After all, what was the point in doing anything if you weren't going to succeed.

"You need time to prepare?" he asked. When Ossan shook his head, Ichigo didn't wait a moment longer. He plunged out through the doorway, Ossan on his heels. The mist parted before them and, as the tower faded, it closed in behind as well, until Ichigo was travelling in a capsule of clarity through an completely opaque world.

*

Dark - light - dark - light. Twisting and turning. Roaring, screaming. Power burning. Byakuya erupted into a reality turned to chaos. Blue flame sheeted across a room, shinigami fleeing before it. Machinery exploded. Chains ripped from their moorings and a white-coated figure went down with claws in its throat.

And none of that mattered.

Frozen in a moment of absolute need, Byakuya felt it. He'd thought that what he'd felt before was necessity. Now he knew he'd been wrong. He knew, because he couldn't feel enough of anything else to be conscious of anything else. There was only one thing, and that was need, rushing through him with orgasmic power.

Blind to the rest of the world, he followed his monstrous herald, along corridors that ran with blood at their passing, up staircases turned to abattoirs. There may have been resistance. Byakuya neither knew nor cared. All fell before them, the monster and the madman, cutting their way to freedom and their deepest desires.

At the surface, they parted company, neither acknowledging the other in the same way that neither had been aware of the other even as they had fought together. Byakuya headed south, following a new siren call, one that was stronger, righter, truer, than the one before.

The wall presented no obstacle. He was over it and gone before it registered on his awareness, the sounds of raised voices no more than whispers on the wind behind him. Likewise the building's towering main doors. They exploded inward, their single stroke kanji shattering with the power of his blow as he blasted them aside and continued on, his flight carrying him over the heads of guards and watchers alike. 

Deeper and further in, along twisting corridors and down down down, into the dark depths beneath. Further down again until there was no further down to go and there, another room just like the first, only here… here he would find salvation. Enclosed in glass, secured with chains, armour peeled away, and yet still the most beautiful essential thing Byakuya had ever known. 

"Scatter," he mouthed against glass warmed by the blood of the creature he'd slain to reach it. "Scatter, Senbonzakura." 

But of course that would never work. With not even an asauchi to his cause, he could not resummon this excised part of himself in that way. Though there was another.

"Byakurai!" Lightning poured from his fingertips and coruscated over the surface of the glass. It should have cracked, it should have splintered. It should have broken into a thousand pieces and freed its prisoner, but it did none of those things. With a cry, Byakuya channelled more reiatsu into the spell and tried again.

Same result. Again. And if he used a higher level kidō, he might just damage what was inside and that… that was unthinkable. For all his desperate hunger, Byakuya would never ever hurt his own zanpakutō. Pressing a hand to the glass tube, he willed its occupant to acknowledge him. 

"Thus my trap is sprung," a man suddenly said behind him.

Byakuya hissed at the sound of that familiar voice and sprung to attack. Too late. He smacked into the barrier that had somehow appeared between him and door and rebounded into a crouch, glaring up at Aizen. In the doorway, the 1st's lieutenant stared back, looking smugly amused, his hand resting on the hilt of his forbidden zanpakutō. A reminder, if Byakuya needed one, that everything from hereon in was under his control.

"I love the new look," Aizen said, strolling into the room. "Very 'hungry ghost'." 

Following along behind Aizen were two figures. One, Byakuya recognised instantly: Muramasa, the spirit of his uncle's zanpakutō. The other, slender and androgynous, wasn't familiar at all. They were dressed all in white, and had pink hair and glasses. Byakuya struggled to focus, trying to remember if he'd ever seen this person before, and drew a blank. Perhaps if he could sense reiatsu… but no, the barrier had put paid to that.

At least Aizen suddenly turning up had kicked some semblance of rational thought back into his head. Senbonzakura's presence still burned inside the containment tank, a constant nagging distraction on his mind, but, for now at least, Byakuya was able to semi-ignore it. Though there was no need for Aizen to know that. If he thought Byakuya was low on wits, perhaps he would lower his guard enough to provide a means of escape. 

Once Senbonzakura was secured, of course.

To that end, Byakuya curled his lip at Aizen, and had the satisfaction of seeing his enemy's eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Yes, very feral, Kuchiki-sama. Or should I say, 'Byakuya', now you've abandoned your clan." 

That was a test, it had to be. Byakuya ignored him. 

Of course, Aizen being Aizen, he had to push. "Don't worry. I'm keeping a close eye on them for you," he continued, then sneered, "Not that they need it. Even after your murderous rampage was discovered, they still managed to come out smelling of roses. Nobles." That last was spat. He was just the other side of the barrier now and Byakuya shuffled backwards, staying on all fours, trying to keep up the illusion of being out of his mind. Unfortunately, the closer he got to Senbonzakura, the less of an illusion it was.

He shook his head, fighting to keep it clear against the constant burning want inside him.

Still Aizen kept talking. "That was inspired, by the way, abdicating before you came after me. It bought the Kuchiki enough time to get their lawyers on the case. Though it won't protect them forever. Especially not after I've turned you into Seireitei's very own bogey-man." He held out a hand towards Byakuya. "What do you say, Kuchiki-sama? I let you have your zanpakutō back and you provide some repeat performances?" 

When Byakuya ignored him, Aizen's eyes narrowed. "I see." His gaze darted to where Muramasa was standing against the wall, arms folded across his thin chest. "Well, I'm sure we can find ways to make you co-operate." 

That was far more than an empty threat, and would quite possibly work. If Senbonzakura was returned to him, Byakuya knew he would do anything not to lose them again. Even turn against the Gotei.

"And failing that, you seem inordinately fond of the young Shiba. He's in trouble, you know, and it would be a shame to see him go the same way as Abarai."

Much to his chagrin, Byakuya couldn't prevent the snarl that escaped him at the mention of Ichigo and Renji. Especially Ichigo. What kind of trouble was he in? Or was that just another of Aizen's lies. 

If it was, Byakuya couldn't tell. Aizen simply smiled slightly. "As I thought," he said and turned away with a hum, strolling back over to the door. "Now, what should I have you do first?"

Byakuya tried not to listen, to no avail.

"I know. With Zaraki out of commission and Unohana distracted, this would be an excellent time to destroy the 11th."

And send the kenpachi on a murderous rampage of her own. Was that really what Aizen wanted?

"It will refocus the military and the aristocracy on each other very nicely, which was my plan for you all along if you hadn't vanished the way you did. Where did you manage to disappear to for so long anyway?" Aizen held his hand out to his pink-haired companion who passed him some kind of machine that flashed and beeped. Though unlike Kurotsuchi's and Urahara's devilish devices, this one was white, angular and compact, far more like something from the living world. 

"I had expected you back some time ago," Aizen continued, then frowning, added, "Though, in truth, you're hardly here now." He glanced up, giving Byakuya a curious look across the room. "This is really quite fascinating. How ever did you manage it?" he asked before dismissing the question with a wave of his hand. "Never mind, we can come back to that later. Szayelaporro?"

"Sir," the pink haired companion replied with a respectful bow.

"Remove the zanpakutō from the containment tube."

A frown flickered across Szayelaporro's face, though Byakuya hardly had the presence of mind to register it. Just the promise of having Senbonzakura freed made his hunger blaze again. "Do you think that wise, sir? He was captain-class-"

"You dare question my orders!" 

Szayelaporro crashed to his knees, head bowed, only his braced arms keeping him off the floor. "Never, sir!" 

The look Aizen gave him was pure disdain. "Do not presume that because you are somewhat useful to me, I will not end you," he said and, as he spoke, he fingered the hilt of his sword in a subconscious tell that Byakuya would have to be brain-dead not to recognise. Even in his current state, he was positive that this Szayelaporro, whoever he was, had been instrumental in Aizen regaining free use of his zanpakutō. 

"Please forgive me." Shaking, Szayelaporro had lowered his head to the ground. Sweat beaded on his temples and his eyes were screwed shut, revealing that his glasses were not simple eye-wear, but attached to his face. A mask? Could this creature be an vasto lorde? He was far too human to be anything less.

For the longest moment Aizen loomed over his subordinate until finally his stance relaxed somewhat. "This time I will. However, try to remember that my patience is not infinite."

"Yes, sir." Eyes glued to the floor, Szayelaporro made no attempt to move until Aizen sighed heavily and said, "The zanpakutō."

That got Szayel moving. While he rushed around the room operating controls, Byakuya remained crouched equidistant between barrier and containment unit, painfully aware of Aizen's intelligent gaze studying him. At the moment he still seemed to believe that Byakuya was out of his mind, but that couldn't last. Aizen wasn't stupid and it was only a matter of time before Byakuya did something to give himself away. 

If he was going to avoid that, and ending up as Aizen's pet assassin, he should be using these minutes to plan an escape. It would likely be his last chance. His only chance. But it was hard to think. The lights along the bottom of the tube were beginning to switch off and that meant that soon, Senbonzakura would be free.

The need inside him was becoming an inferno. It was almost impossible to think at all, let alone about something wasn't Senbonzakura.

So perhaps that should be his answer. If Senbonzakura accepted him, then maybe going straight to bankai, they could fight their way free together. Muramasa would be less of a threat during such a confrontation since breaking him enough to let that creature back into his heart again would take time, though Byakuya was under no misapprehension that Aizen could do it. With his powers of hypnosis, it would be easy.

The final light on the containment tube went out, the glass shifted, and every plan, every consideration, every thought that was even remotely rational vanished from Byakuya's mind. He cried out, back to being a creature of pure instinct, on the ground, scrabbling at the edge of the glass, desperate to reach, to touch. Somewhere outside himself, he registered voices, laughter, but they were cast aside, as nothing in the face of his all-consuming need. 

Finally - _finally_ \- there was a gap wide enough. He thrust his arm through, ignore the bruising ache as bone ground against flesh, felt the fleeting touch of a hand against his and-

Fell through dead air from a bruise-purple sky.

"NO!" Denial ripped agonisingly from Byakuya's throat as all sense of Senbonzakura vanished and he was alone again, empty and aching, kneeling on a bone-scattered battlefield

*

Even before setting out, Ichigo had a good idea which way he was headed. This might all be part of his inner world but, given the direction of the explosion and its distance away from the Senzaikyū, they were probably talking Urahara's secret training ground beneath Sōkyoku Hill. It even made sense for Zangetsu to go back there, since that's where he'd kind of been born.

It took forever to locate the entrance, what with the fog, but they found it eventually and dropped down into the room below. Tall rocky shapes loomed around them in the murk, though the fog here seemed thinner, more like a thick mist. Hoping to use that to his advantage, Ichigo took a moment to stop and feel his way outside Ossan's protective bubble using reiatsu. If Zangetsu was down here somewhere, maybe now Ichigo would be close enough to pick something up.

Everything felt much the same as it had before, though the reiatsu 'buzz' was less intrusive. Ichigo was just about to try for the ribbons again when he realised that what he was 'seeing' wasn't right. There was a gap. Or a space. Or a… void, maybe?

"Ossan?" he said, the 'what the hell is that and what's it doing in my inner world' implied in the tone of his voice. 

_Do you sense something?_ replied the Quincy spirit, moving up to stand beside him. The bubble they were standing in shifted along with him.

"Erm… You don't?" Ichigo clarified, checking again that he wasn't mistaken. Nope, definitely a something. He squinted through the mist, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was in 'real life', but he was too far away to make anything out. 

_I can feel nothing except Tsukishima's reiatsu,_ Ossan said. _However it's obvious that you do. Do you wish to go closer?_

Since it was the only thing even close to a lead that they had, Ichigo nodded. "Yeah. I reckon we should check it out at least."

Ossan inclined his head and Ichigo set off again, slower this time, just in case he ended up walking into the middle of something.

As it turned out, he did anyway because, between one step and the next, the world as he knew it vanished and Ichigo found himself… perched at the top of a tree?

The wind blew, shifting the branch beneath his feet and, Ichigo's gaze automatically dropped to the small patch of ground just visible through the leaves far below. For the briefest moment, vertigo called and his balance faltered. He wobbled. But he hadn't spent the past few months shunpo'ing around Seireitei and not learnt a thing or two about not falling. Head up and focus on something in front of you. A heartbeat later and he was steady again, enough to look around himself curiously, because how the hell had he ended up in a forest, for crap's sake? And where was Ossan?

He glanced over his shoulder and, blinked stupidly. 

Tsukishima fog taking over his inner world? He could deal. Sideways buildings? Not a problem. Two places existing in the same space at the same time? That was just plain weird. 

There was Ossan, standing just behind him, expression a bit pensive as he met Ichigo's gaze, and outside the bubble, the fog still obscured most of Urahara's training ground, looming rocks and all. But at the same time, there was the forest, stretching out around them, green and branchy and full of trees. 

Ichigo took a breath preparing for a much deserved string of curses, when something tugged on his hakama leg. He looked down to find a small boy with spiky black hair and solemn grey eyes staring up at him. By some miracle he managed not to brain the kid from sheer shock and only blurted, "Who on earth are you?" A distinct improvement on what he had been about to say. Yuzu would be so proud. 

The kid, whose bare-feet seemed to grip easily on the swaying branch, blinked up at him for a second before saying, "You don't wanna stay here, mister."

"I don't want to what now?" Ichigo replied because, whatever this was, it was getting more surreal by the moment. This was _his_ inner world. Bad enough that Byakuya kept dropping in, what was a forest he'd never seen before and a kid he didn't recognise doing in it?

"It's not safe," the kid said, his gaze darting past Ichigo towards the depths of the forest. "Kazeshini's coming."

Death wind? That didn't sound good. 

Ichigo followed the kid's line of sight. Most of the trees were smaller than the towering monstrosity he was stuck in, meaning he had a pretty good view of the surrounding forest. 

Off in the far distance, he thought he saw some of the trees moving. Not Ent moving, but high wind or-

"Who exactly is Kazeshini?" Ichigo asked worriedly, eyes locked on the trail of jerking, thrashing trees heading in their direction, because the last time he'd seen something like that, it'd been in one of the Jurassic Park movies and no way was he planning on hanging around to find out if he had a dinosaur living in his soul along with the Quincy and the hollow. Oh, and a kid now apparently, as well. 

"He's like your Zangetsu," the kid said.

In the middle distance, a hollow roared. And not just any hollow. Ichigo recognised that sound, had felt his own throat make it when Zangetsu had used him to try and stop Kurotsuchi.

Not dinosaurs then, but hollows. Two of them, Kazeshini and Zangetsu, on a rampage. This was getting better and better.

Taking a risk, he reached out with his reiatsu, trying to touch base with Zangetsu. Nothing. And their connection was still dead. Whatever the hollow had done before to stop him grabbing his body back was still up and running. For now, he was stuck. But not alone.

"Ossan?" he said, voice rising as the wind grew steadily stronger. 

_I'm sorry, Ichigo, but I can perceive neither this 'forest' nor the person you are speaking to._

Couldn't perceive? How was that even freaking possible. 

Ichigo turned to remonstrate and, as he did so, a blast of wind caught the branch beneath their feet. It yawed dangerously. Ichigo lurched, slamming one hand into the tree trunk for balance. His other somehow ended up gripping the kid's hand, tugging him closer. 

Maybe they could head back to the Senzaikyū. No, Ossan had said that once they left it, it was lost, so there was no safety there. Where then? His own body?

But, even if he could somehow get out of his inner world and back to his body, what about the kid? 

The hand inside his own was so small, so vulnerable. Ichigo glanced down, and suddenly there they were, just him and the kid, holding hands up a tree, with monsters heading towards them and Ichigo knew that, whoever this kid was, he couldn't simply leave him behind. Either he'd have to take the kid with him, or he'd have to stand and fight. 

And then it was too late. Yards away, the forest exploded and Zangetsu piled into view. He was in full hollow form; horns, tail, the works; and after him came another. It was pure white, with a shock of black and scarlet hair that whipped behind him like a horse's tail, and was wielding a pair of… Were those scythes?

One of the double-blades whipped up towards them. 

Not stopping to think about it, Ichigo grabbed the kid, and kicked off into shunpo, hoping like hell that Ossan could keep up. He had no idea where he was going, so for now, 'away' was going to have to be good enough. The trees shook, the very air seeming to vibrate and, as they reached the ground, the noise coming up from behind was like something out of a monster movie, all crashing and roaring and breaking branches. Any worry Ichigo might have had for Zangetsu fled. From the sounds of that, he was more than holding his own.

The kid, who'd swarmed up onto Ichigo's back like a monkey, clung on tight, bony knees digging into Ichigo's ribs as small arms tried to throttle him, and it took Ichigo a moment to realise that the kid was yanking at his shoulder and yelling in his ear, "That way, that way!"

Obediently, Ichigo changed direction. "Where're we going?" he called, tipping his head to avoid having to yell so loud.

"My house!" the kid yelled back. 

Ichigo couldn't imagine any house was safe from two hollows on the warpath, but the kid seemed to know what he was doing and he had been the one to warn Ichigo in the first place. So, they plunged through the forest, dodging flying branches and toppling trunks, Ichigo doing his best to compensate for sudden changes in direction and getting tugged and kicked back in the right direction when he failed. 

Finally though, they left the chaos behind. The noise levels dropped and their progress became less desperate zig-zag and more straight ahead. Ichigo dropped out of shunpo, needing a breather, and asked his simian-like rider, "Where is this place?" 

"Just up ahead." The kid pointed past Ichigo's ear, and sure enough a little bit further on, they emerged from the forest into a broad sunny clearing carpeted with yellow flowers. A stream ran through the middle of it and beside that stood a house, solid-looking but small and plain. The whole place was idyllic, perfect, and if a hollow so much as sneezed on it, it'd be gone.

As they stopped outside the house, the kid slid off Ichigo's back and onto the ground. Ichigo turned to check he was okay, and found him gone. As was the house, the clearing and the forest. There was Ossan, standing exactly where he had been, and through roiling white fog, Ichigo could just make out Urahara's training ground, with the same looming rocks he remembered from before. It was like he hadn't moved at all. 

He turned back, and there was the house. Behind, fog. In front, house. And in between, that merging of place that made Ichigo's head hurt to look at it.

"That is stupid freaky," he grumbled. 

Ossan gave him an odd look. _You appear to be in conversation with a person I cannot see, about a place that I also cannot see,_ he said dryly. _Also, your reiatsu is fluctuating wildly._

"That's because I was running for my fucking life!" Ichigo snapped as the whole stupid shitstorm suddenly got too much to deal with rationally, because fuck knew he'd been doing his best but this was just stupid!

"I might be able to help with that," yet another voice said behind him.

Ichigo spun on his heel to find a guy about his own age on the front step of the house. He had shaggy shoulder-length hair and serious grey eyes set in features that looked familiar. Like the kid's. An older brother maybe? But more than that, there was something about that sharp-chinned face that Ichigo felt he should recognise.

"Who the hell are you?" Ichigo demanded, stalking towards the guy, who stood his ground and held out… a steaming bowl of tea? 

Ichigo scowled at it, and then up at the guy, who shrugged and said, "It's been a long day. I thought you might appreciate a hot drink."

"What I would appreciate," Ichigo ground out, clinging onto his temper with his fingernails, "is an explanation as to why you and this…" he gestured around at the forest and the clearing and just everything, "is in _my_ inner world," because he was starting to have suspicions. They were connected to Byakuya periodically turning up and he wasn't sure he liked them. The term colonisation left a bad taste in his mouth.

The guy withdrew the tea with a sigh and lowered his gaze. "The forest is not part of _your_ inner world," he said. "You're just a visitor." The hand which wasn't holding the tea rose and stroked once from chin to hairline. The skin beneath it paled, the mouth twisting into a sly smirk and shiny red scars blossomed across forehead and cheeks. Suddenly finding himself looking into very familiar gold and black eyes, Ichigo knew exactly why he'd recognised the face.

Hisagi. 

This was not what he'd been expecting. Byakuya's hollowfied zanpakutō spirit, maybe. That would have made some kind of weird sense. Plus, the name Kazeshini kind of fitted an evil version of Senbonzakura. But Hisagi's? 

"What-? How-?" he tried, giving up both times when no words seemed enough.

The hand moved again, and Hisagi's face returned to its more human version. He held the tea out to Ichigo once more. "This will help," he said. "Trust me."

Having just seen those eyes, trust was the last thing on Ichigo's mind. Then again, looks aside, when had Hisagi ever done anything out of line when Hirako wasn't there giving him orders? In fact, the last time they'd met, it had been Ichigo who'd turned out to be untrustworthy and Hisagi had almost paid the final price. If it hadn't been for Yoruichi, Zangetsu might well have done worse than take a chunk out of…

Well, shit. "Is this because I ate some of you?" And wasn't that the most disgusting thought ever.

The look Hisagi gave him was equal parts impressed and worried. "In short, yes," he said, apparently giving up on the tea and cradling it to his chest. "It's a thing that hollows can do. By consuming a part of him, Zangetsu made Kazeshini his fracción and since they're a part of us, and we're shinigami, it seems to manifest as a partial intertwining of inner worlds."

That made all kinds of revolting sense. Ichigo's gaze dropped to the bowl of tea. "And that?" he asked. "You're trying to what? Reverse it?"

An expression of total surprise flashed across Hisagi's face. "This, no!" he protested. "It really is just tea. Kazeshini is likely to be a while and I thought you might be tired."

Which raised a whole raft of other questions. Unable to chose between the two most important, Ichigo went for both. "A while doing what, and where's the kid?"

"He's gone back into the forest." 

Ichigo immediately tensed to take off after him, because no way would anyone, let alone a kid, survive if they got caught up in that fight, only for Hisagi to add, "But you don't have to worry. He's not real. He's just a part of me. A go-between I made to communicate with Kazeshini." 

Ichigo relaxed a little, for now. "With your zanpakutō." That couldn't be healthy, could it? "Can't you, I don't know, talk to him yourself?" And how weird was it that Hisagi could break off a piece of himself like that.

Then again, maybe that was common-place. How would Ichigo know. It wasn't like anyone ever discussed their inner worlds with each other. Honestly, it was such a dumb rule. 

Hisagi shrugged and turned away, looking uncomfortable. "Kazeshini would never hurt a child."

The implication that he would hurt the grown-up version of Hisagi was more than kinda scary. "And Zangetsu?" Ichigo asked, trailing after Hisagi as he headed into the house. 

Hisagi glanced back over his shoulder. "Kazeshini won't hurt him either. Or more accurately, he can't. Fracción, remember." He smiled and shook his head. "He was so mad about that. The great Kazeshini brought low by another hollow. He's fought hundreds over the years, you know, and your Zangetsu's the first that's been able to get anywhere near touching him."

Chuckling quietly, he stepped up out of the genkan into the house proper and, as he did so the bowl of tea tumbled from his hand. He cried out, dropping to one knee, fingers gripping the door frame hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked, hurrying forward to help, thinking Hisagi had maybe tripped and scalded himself. The wooden floor in front of Hisagi was awash with tea, but that wasn't all. Swirling in it were droplets of blood, already turning the rest of the liquid red, and when Hisagi looked up, Ichigo could see why. His nose was bleeding, and it looked like a bad one. But more than that, he looked dazed, like he hadn't a clue what was going on. 

"I don't-" Hisagi began, before crying out again, hunching over himself like his belly was hurting, and when Ichigo hunkered down to check on him, he could see blood on Hisagi's teeth and lips. Like Kyōraku after he'd eaten the rice contaminated with Quincy reiatsu.

Scrambling back away from him, Ichigo's brain did a loop-the-loop of panic. Was it him making this happen? Him, a Quincy, being inside Hisagi's inner world. He leapt to his feet, the two landscapes spinning around him, and shoved past Ossan. "We need to get out of here. We're poisoning him-"

"No. Please," Hisagi gasped, grabbing Ichigo's sleeve and dragging him back down. "Don't leave. You need to stop him."

Stop who? Not Ossan because Hisagi couldn't see him. 

Ichigo was on the verge of asking when the pieces snicked into place with chilling exactitude. It wasn't Quincy-stuff that was hurting Hisagi, it was Zangetsu. And it was Kazeshini he was trying to kill.

Damn it! He should have thought. Should have remembered. And with Zangetsu half out of his mind under Kurotsuchi's knife, he probably had less than no control over his instincts right now.

"Where are they?" he demanded, trying to remember the route they'd kind of followed to get here while at the same time reaching out with his reiatsu for any trace of Zangetsu. There wasn't even an echo. No way was he going to find them on his own. "Forget it, you're coming with me." He reached out to haul Hisagi to his feet.

"What? No!" Releasing Ichigo's sleeve, Hisagi pressed back against the door-frame like he wanted to merge with it, his already pale face turning ashen. The blood on his chin was so red it looked fake. He swiped a hand across it. "I can't! If I go out there, he'll kill me."

"If he's hurt so bad that you're like this, then he needs you!" Ichigo shot back. 

Hisagi stared up at him, reddening eyes wide and full of terror. Whatever he was scared of, it was obviously going to take more than that to break through. 

Ichigo tried again, drawing on his own experience. "Look, I know what it's like having a hollow for a zanpakutō. He's an asshole, right? But he's also a part of your soul. If he dies, so do you." 

But even that didn't work. There was still nothing but fear in Hisagi's eyes. Surely there had to be something he cared about. 

Casting around, Ichigo felt again the sensation of a small hand enclosed in his own. Would that do it? It had to be worth a try. "What about the kid? He's a part of you too. The part that had the guts to come and warn me that the forest was dangerous. A kid like that doesn't deserve to die." 

Hisagi blinked up at Ichigo, a world of churning emotion trapped behind his eyes, then his gaze slid to one side and his hands clenched into fists on his knees. After a long moment of silence, he choked, "You're right. He doesn't deserve that."

"Then you'll come?" 

Grey eyes that were now crying bloody tears rose to meet Ichigo's. "Yes. If you're with me, I will."

*

They shunpo'd straight out into the forest, Hisagi doing his best to point the way even with most of his weight supported by an arm over Ichigo's shoulder. Soon though, a path of destruction opened up ahead of them making the route obvious. Rather than try and deal with uprooted trees, trunks snapped off like sticks and mangled branches, Ichigo travelled parallel to the destruction, but even so, it slowed them down. And all the while, Hisagi was getting worse. With their bodies pressed together, Ichigo could feel every time ribs heaved for air or when spasms racked through him.

Finally a familiar bass roar sounded in the distance: Zangetsu.

Not bothering to stick to the route at all now, Ichigo headed straight for it, feeling Hisagi's grip on him tighten as they went. Why the guy was so terrified of his own zanpakutō, Ichigo didn't understand. Nor did he care, right now. He just wanted to stop Zangetsu before he accidentally destroyed three people.

They found the two hollowfied spirits at the centre of a vast swathe of flattened trees and undergrowth. Kazeshini was crouched in what had probably been a clearing, scythe held low and wide, his gaze fixed on the circling Zangetsu, who was brandishing the second scythe as he paced and roared, the chain that previously attached the two weapons together dangling broken from the pole. 

Ichigo stopped a sensible distance away because, contrary to what some people might say, he wasn't stupid enough to go blundering into the middle of a fight before he knew what was going on. As he watched, Zangetsu lunged, but past Kazeshini, not at him, seemingly aiming for something on the ground behind, something Kazeshini was protecting. 

It was the kid, Ichigo realised a moment later, recognising the cowering form for what it was. Which made no sense. Why would Zangetsu be after the kid when Kazeshini was right there in front of him?

It didn't matter. They could work out the whys afterwards. As Kazeshini let out a high shriek, halfway between a laugh and scream, and let fly with his scythe, Ichigo briskly unwound Hisagi's arm from over his shoulder. "I need you to keep Kazeshini off my back while I tackle Zangetsu. Think you can do that?" he asked, steadying the guy until he found his feet. 

There was a heartbeat's hesitation and then Hisagi replied shakily, "I think so." 

It would have to do. There wasn't time to stand around being scared. 

Ichigo nodded at him, then without a backward glance, kicked into a step of shunpo that took him right past Kazeshini and up into Zangetsu's face. As he landed, he sent a blast of kidō straight into Zangetsu's chest: "Shō!"

Zangetsu flew backwards, bouncing off several tree-stumps before skidding to a halt. Ichigo stalked after him, summoning his sword as he went. Yeah, okay, he'd said no more manifesting, but this was his inner world, damn it, and no way was he going in unarmed. "What the fuck is your problem!"

In answer, the hollow charged, scythe held high. Ichigo slammed his sword down and let loose with a low powered getsuga tensho. The furrow Zangetsu dug in the ground on his way back to the tree was pretty damned impressive. "Fucking well listen to me, you shithead. That kid has done nothing-" 

The scythe whipped towards him, anchored by the broken chain wrapped firmly around Zangetsu's fist. Ichigo just managed to block it, sending it spinning wildly to the side where it snagged on a half demolished tree. With a snarl, Zangestu tossed the chain and broke into a sprint as he headed towards Ichigo.

A step of shunpo, a twist of the blade in the air and Zangetsu was suddenly flat on his back, a deep slice across his chest. For a second, Ichigo froze, stunned at his own success. That wasn't supposed to happen. Zangetsu was supposed to pull off some clever move that'd leave Ichigo on the back foot, and then they'd battle across the-

A roar and Zangetsu was coming again. And again, Ichigo, sidestepped him and he went straight down, this time with an injury to his leg. Now Ichigo was getting worried. This wasn't how Zangetsu fought. He always, always, fought clever. This wasn't clever, this was mindless.

And the blade wasn't helping.

Tossing it aside as he shunpo'd a few steps away, Ichigo made the decision to revert to kidō, specifically bakudō. If he was going to find out what was going on, he needed to immobilise Zangetsu, not hurt him.

"Nihainawa!" Twins ropes of golden reiatsu spilt from Ichigo' fingers, shot across the ground and tangled up through Zangetsu's legs and arms as he charged. The hollow nose-planted, howling and Ichigo was on him in a second. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he demanded, driving a knee into the hollow's back. 

The only answers he got came in the form of snarls and growls. There was definitely something seriously wrong. No matter how mad he'd got in the past, Zangetsu had never ended up non-verbal.

"Hey!" Ichigo shouted again, shoving Zangetsu's head into the ground. Teeth mashed madly against earth as Zangetsu thrashed under him, fighting the bonds, fighting being pinned, fighting the person holding him down-

Fuck!

Ichigo leapt off the hollow and retreated, hands raised. "Sorry, sorry, that was really dumb. If someone grabbed me like that right now, I'd try to chew their head off too." Because crap knew what was going on in the real world, but Ichigo was pretty certain that the last thing Zangetsu needed right now was someone else holding him down and trying to hurt him. 

But if Zangetsu heard Ichigo's voice, he didn't respond. He kept fighting and, although the bakudō was holding him for now, it wouldn't forever. Bad as Ichigo felt about restraining him at all, he couldn't just let Zangetsu go. It wasn't just his own safety on the line. 

Ichigo glanced back over his shoulder. Hisagi seemed to be trying to help a blood-drenched and very skittish Kazeshini, who was crouched over something on the ground, periodically letting out one of those piercing laugh/screams when Hisagi got too close. It sent Hisagi scrambling back a few feet every time, but he was getting closer. Slowly. He was making progress at least.

Which was exactly what Ichigo needed to do but, since neither seeing nor hearing Ichigo had sorted Zangetsu out, what was left? 

Ichigo had a sudden visceral memory of the trick Zangetsu had played on him in the arena, and grinned. Now _that_ just might work. Approaching the struggling hollow carefully, he crouched down and held out a hand, palm down, like he'd seen Chad do with stray dogs. "Hey," he said quietly, keeping his tone nice and even. "Have a big sniff of this, see if it helps."

For a second it looked like it wouldn't work, Zangetsu was still snarling, still mashing his teeth into the mud. Then he went still, mouth open, breathing heavily. Ichigo inched forward and held his hand closer, hoping it would be just enough to tip the balance. A shudder rippled through Zangetsu's body, followed a moment later by a harsh growl that was hardly a voice at all, but enough of one that Ichigo was willing to take the risk.

Releasing the bakudō, he hurriedly backed off again to give the hollow space, and himself if he needed it. Zangetsu crawled up onto hands and knees, still making that same rumbling noise, but he made no move to attack. If anything he was… clawing at his face?

Ichigo approached slowly, close enough to see cracks spreading across Zangetsu's mask. It was starting to come away and Zangetsu was trying to rip it off. This was good. Ichigo remembered doing the same thing when he regained control of his body when he'd first been hollowfied. 

Crouching down beside the hollow, Ichigo reached out, gently easing aside a clawed hand that doing more damage than good, snagged his fingers into a crack, and pried some of the mask free. It was difficult to do, the mask seeming to cling to Zangetsu's face. But it finally cracked again and split off, revealing the upper right side of Zangetsu's face, one black and gold eye rolling madly, the skin around it pink and sore looking.

"K-king?" he panted, claws digging into Ichigo's forearm where he had a death grip. "Gotta find - find you. Bastard - bastard's taken you."

"No one's taken me anywhere. I'm right here," Ichigo told him, ignoring the pain and closing his hand around the back of Zangetsu's. 

Black and gold flicked back and forth. "Can't see you. Can't feel you- Can't feel-!" That last came out in a roar as Zangetsu briefly surged forward, before flopping back again, panting even harder than before.

"That's because you cut me off from you, dumb ass," Ichigo replied, and if his throat felt tight and his chest hurt then that was just between him and the trees. No one else needed to know. "You were trying to protect me so damn hard." 

"Protect. Gotta protect." It was mumbled, and more than a bit unfocused. The freak out might be over but Zangetsu wasn't fixed yet. 

Gently, Ichigo worked away at another bit of the mask. "That's right. But you've done that bit. It's my turn now. Let me in." 

And just like that the connection between them flared back to life. 

With it came knowledge of the past hours. Not all of them. There were large gaps, which Ichigo was incredibly grateful for. The stuff he saw was enough, thanks so much, but now he knew: Zangetsu wasn't at the 12th any longer. He'd escaped, somehow. The detail was confused and seemed to involve the same ghost-Byakuya that had flitted through Ichigo's inner world earlier. Whatever it was, its appearance had allowed Zangetsu to break through his bonds and - 

Ichigo grinned, not caring if it was as feral as fuck. The feel of Kurotsuchi's scrawny neck parting under his claws was one he was going to treasure for a very long time. "You got him," he whispered, only then realising that his forehead was pressed to Zangetsu's, their faces millimetres apart. He tightened his grip on the hollow's nape and gave it a gentle shake. "You killed the bastard."

The grin that Zangetsu shot back was just as wild. "Ripped his throat out," he croaked. 

And no one could come back from that.

The memories continued to unfold. Breaking out into a midnight-darkened Seireitei, the ghost-Byakuya long gone. The confusion at finding himself alone. The abiding pain and fear from Kurotsuchi's tortures. The desperate ache to find his King. The overwhelming hunger. And all around him, tasty tasty shinigami.

He was stalking the roofs, searching for an easy meal, when above him, a flare of reiatsu. A hollow. One he'd taken before and could easily take again.

Sensing him, it fled. Zangetsu pursued, a merry chase until down beneath the ground… Ah! He knew these soaring false skies and crumbling cliffs. This was where he was born, a part of him anyway. And standing before him, the one he'd been following. Kazeshini, posing on a rock like he was asking for a rematch.

And Zangetsu was in just the mood to give it to him. 

They clashed at sonido speeds, blade against heirro and Zangetsu felt the blow. Unthinkable! How had this crawling worm become so strong?

That was when he smelt it. The King. The ungrateful fracción reeked of Zangetsu's King. How was that possible, unless- 

Thief! Traitor! 

Rage and hunger combined, crashing through Zangetsu like a tsunami and a roar thundered from his chest. The cero came without a thought, reiatsu building and spinning to explode out in a shaft of pure fire and power, disintegrating the rock where a heartbeat earlier Kazeshini had been perched. And then the hunt was on, the hunt and the battle and then the feasting-

"Shit!" Ichigo jerked back from those memories and stared around in a panic. If what he just saw was true, he had to get back to his body quick, because Hisagi was going to need help. Serious help.

Over in the middle of the clearing, Hisagi was kneeling over Kazeshini, who seemed to have collapsed and that really just confirmed everything.

Claws dug into Ichigo's arm. He glanced down to find Zangetsu frowning, presumably sensing Ichigo's worry through their connection like Ichigo could feel his confusion and pain. "It's okay," Ichigo told him, "I know you didn't mean to hurt him, but I need my body back." 

The hollow shook his head. "Pro-tect," he croaked.

"You have, you did, and you were awesome, but now it's my turn." Ichigo smiled, though he was pretty sure it was more sad than glad right now. Had he saved his own life at the cost of someone else's. 

He pried Zangetsu's claws from his arm and threaded their fingers together, ignoring the dried blood that flaked off on his hands. "That's the thing you always forget, when you start going on about kings and horses: at the end of the day, when the fighting's done, it's the king's job to take care of the horse."

Zangetsu closed his eyes. Their connection flared again, this time bright and true, and Ichigo fell upwards, following it out to the real world.


	21. Did Something 2 Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in this one for gore, mentions of child abuse, non-con sex and drug use.

It was scarily easy to fall back into the routine of the 4th, especially when they were so busy. Casualties were coming in from all over Seireitei, even some from the 12th, which was odd according to Tsukishima-sensei as they normally took care of their own. Others were off the streets from around the Pits, a lot of them minor nobility who'd been out for the evening when the attack happened. But most were coming from the 1st, and their injuries were terrible. Yuzu had seen at least one poor woman whose skin was almost entirely gone from one half of her body. Flayed by lightning at the hands of a traitor captain, so everyone was saying. 

Yuzu didn't know what to believe. She knew what they claimed Byakuya-sama had done before he fled from Seireitei, but he'd seemed so nice the single time they'd met, and she wasn't alone thinking that way. Take had respected him a lot. Hisana too. Both of them spoke of him in admiring terms when they thought no one was listening. And nii-chan must have liked him a bit because apparently he used to live in the old captain's house with him, though so had Abarai-san so maybe that was just for convenience.

But such thoughts were for another time. Feet flying, Yuzu hauled the large box of supplies between the ranks of trolleys, stopping at each one to restock the medic's trays, and trying to ignore the patients' cries of pain. It wasn't easy. She wanted to help them with her own two hands, but that would be pointless. Without reiryoku, she couldn't heal. The most use she could possibly be right now was exactly what she was doing, being extra hands and feet for those who could.

Fourth seat Iemura was in charge of triage. He sat at the desk at the far end of the room dealing with an almost constant stream of medics and completing paperwork as casualties were admitted, given basic treatment and hurried on to whoever could help them best. Beside him on the desk was his cane. Every now and then, if a patient became too noisy or he spotted someone he thought was slacking, he'd pick it up and tap it meaningfully against the wood, pausing a moment to watch as everyone scurried into extra speedy action. 

Her box emptied, Yuzu gave the desk a wide berth and hurried out to fetch more. But when she got to the storeroom, Tsukishima-sensei wasn't alone, he was standing by the window, deep in conversation with Aizen-fukutaichō. When she entered, the pair of them stopped talking and looked over at her like she was a teacher and they were naughty children caught cheating. She stopped, taken aback slightly by their reaction, and held up her empty box. "Um, I need more supplies."

Tsukishima-sensei frowned, seeming to recover himself as he said, "I only just gave you the last load."

"There's a lot of casualties," Yuzu replied, trying not to feel embarrassed. She hadn't meant to walk in on them. Aizen-fukutaichō must be here because so many of the injured shinigami were from his division. She gave him a small smile. "We doing our very best to to look after them, Aizen-fukutaichō."

"I'm sure you are, Yuzu-chan," he replied, giving her a soft smile in return and Yuzu felt heat blossom across her cheeks. He was so very good-looking with such lovely warm brown eyes. But he had no time for her, not today. Turning back to Tsukishima-sensei, he said, "I'll leave you to it. Just remember what I said. I need him under fast, so as soon as you get the all clear…"

Tsukishima-sensei nodded. "It won't be a problem." 

It was almost an hour later that Iemura-yonseki called her over and handed her a stack of files to take to Unohana-taichō. Urgent, he said. Taking the outside route to avoid crowded corridors, Yuzu hurried up to Unohana-taichō's office, stopping outside to catch her breath, but before she could lift her hand to knock, she heard raised voices from inside and, though it went against every rule on manners that she knew, Yuzu couldn't resist leaning close to listen in.

"We tried it your way and it didn't work. I'm not letting her go again." That was Aizen-fukutaichō again and he sounded annoyed. Yuzu was suddenly very glad she hadn't knocked.

It was Unohana-taichō's voice that came next, clipped and sharp. "Your attempts were no more successful and I will not see the girl abused any further." 

"Then it seems we have reached an impasse." He was being so rude! And to a captain, as well, when he was only a lieutenant. 

"There is no impasse, only you making excuses for failing to deliver what was promised." Now Unohana-taichō's voice took on a steely edge that Yuzu was very familiar with. There was no arguing with that tone. "Remember Aizen-kun, your tricks do not work on me." 

Ha! That would tell him. Yuzu strained her ears to catch the reply. 

"I am well aware of that. And don't worry, you'll get your fight." Yuzu couldn't believe it. There wasn't even a hint of apology in Aizen-fukutaichō's voice. A moment later he added, "It's ensuring a successful conclusion to any potential aftermath that's proving so troublesome."

Outcome to what? Yuzu shuffled closer.

"That is not my problem," Unohana-taichō said.

"Of course it isn't; if you fail, you'll be dead. But then it'll fall to the rest of us to try and stop events from spiralling out of control. Having that thing running rampage through Soul Society is hardly conducive to anyone's long term plans."

"I will not fail."

"People can always fail, even someone as powerful as you, kenpachi-taichō."

Footsteps on the walkway made Yuzu spring away from the door, but it was only someone passing by further down. She watched until they disappeared around the corner and then leaned forward again, only to jump as Aizen-fukutaichō snapped, "Enough! You think I haven't tried to secure another solution? This is the best one I have come across in the past three hundred years and I'm not about to give it up simply because you've developed some kind of misplaced affection."

"It is not affection, Aizen-fukutaichō. It is enlightened self-interest. If you break the girl trying to reactivate the schrift when you have no alternative lined up, then your plan will fail and our deal will become void. That is _not_ a circumstance you would wish to come to pass." 

Yuzu had no idea what they were talking about but she'd never heard her captain sound so severe. 

"As you well know, finding an alternative was exactly what I was attempting when I devised the challenge," Aizen-fukutaichō replied testily. "Though thanks to Kurotsuchi's pathetic excuse for security we've probably lost the boy and all the data."

"He was still at the 12th?" Unohana-taichō sounded shocked. "I was under the impression that the operation to remove the transmitter was a simple affair or I would have offered to carry it out myself."

"It was an easy operation, the boy should have been back in the Senzaikyū within the hour. The only reason Kurotsuchi took him to the 12th at all was to make downloading the data more secure. And then this supposed vasto lorde broke free of whatever inadequate pit Kurotsuchi had it stashed away in and now we've lost everything."

Yuzu didn't know much about what had happened at the 12th but some kind of monster getting free would tie in with the injuries they'd seen. One of the men's arms had been ripped clean off!

"And since I wasn't able to attend the bout myself, I am reduced to relying on eye-witness accounts for some clue as to whether the boy used the schrift," Aizen-fukutaichō added, sounding completely dismayed. "Oh smile away, lady-captain, please do. The irony of the situation is not lost on me. But if there is anything you might have seen, any clue?"

Sounding amused, Unohana-taichō said, "Not during the bout itself, no. However…"

Another set of footsteps. This time the shinigami came right past the office and Yuzu had to move some distance away to avoid being caught eavesdropping. By the time she got back, the conversation had changed yet again.

"You are referring to Isane-chan still being alive," Unohana-taichō was saying and the name rang through Yuzu like a bell. She clutched the files to her chest. Despite what Tsukishima-sensei had said about Soifon-fukutaichō being a friend now, some part of her was still terrified she'd done the wrong thing telling her about the refugees in Rukongai. Now both Aizen-fukutaichō and Unohana-taichō knew about them as well!

"Of course I am," Aizen-fukutaichō replied. He sounded frustrated. "What I don't understand is why Hirako didn't know what was going on. I rely on that man to keep a lid on Kaname's worst excesses, or at least to inform me if he goes off the rails."

"There is perhaps a lesson for both of us in this then; never trust to others the things which one should do oneself." 

"You trust Zaraki." 

"I _contain_ Zaraki. Only a fool would trust a demon." Yuzu knew exactly which expression went with that tone. It was the one Unohana-taichō used when she thought you were being silly.

"And I would never dare call you a fool, madam kenpachi," Aizen replied. "However that does bring us to the point of my visit this evening. I have a proposal for you."

"Another one?"

"One that I hope will serve us both. The 13th needs a new fukutaichō. If you're amenable, I would recommend to Tōsen-taichō that he approach your fifth seat with an offer." 

Tsukishima-sensei? Yuzu pressed her ear to the door, eager to hear more. If Tsukishima-sensei went to the 13th, would she be allowed to go with him? She liked the 13th and it was so close to home and the 6th, she'd practically be able to see the estate.

"I see no reason why that should be a problem," Unohana-taichō concurred. When she spoke again, the steely edge was back in her voice, "We can only hope that he has more success ingratiating himself with his new captain than he had with me."

"He tried to use his zanpakutō on _you_?" Aizen sounded genuinely surprised. Yuzu didn't blame him. Unohana-taichō was the best sword fighter in all of the Gotei. Why would Tsukishima-sensei try and attack her?

"Only the once. And would have lost his head had I not been curious to know exactly what he was trying to do. His aim was so appalling that it raised my suspicions that this had to be more than an assassination attempt. Needless to say, a few rounds with Minazuki and all became clear."

Aizen chuckled, a cruel sound that made Yuzu frown. " _That_ I would have liked to have seen. He tried the same on me when we first met and had an equally unhappy time of it." That sounded suspicious to Yuzu. Aizen was probably lying to make himself look as important as Unohana-taichō. Either that or Tsukishima-sensei had a very good reason for doing what he did. "I would hope, since then, that he's learnt to chose his targets more carefully."

"Even so," Unohana-taichō said, "Do not trust him if you do not need to." 

"Like you, lady, I am no fool." 

Yuzu pressed her fist to her mouth. How could they say things like that about Tsukishima-sensei? Didn't they know he was the most wonderful person in all of Soul Society?

From the other side of the door came a rustle of cloth. Aizen-fukutaichō must be leaving. Yuzu took a few steps back, preparing to look like she'd just arrived. A few moments later, when the door drew back, Aizen-fukutaichō caught her with her hand raised ready to knock and Yuzu was able to act appropriately surprised.

"Ah, h-hello again, Aizen-fukutaichō," she said, dipping a bow.

"Yuzu-chan. Did you enjoy our conversation?"

Breath caught in Yuzu's throat and she looked up into brown eyes that were no longer soft but cold and calculating. "I-I," she stammered. Beyond Aizen, she could see Unohana-taichō sitting at her desk, watching impassively. No rescue would come from there.

"Well, child, speak up." 

Yuzu's gaze snapped back to the lieutenant in front of her. "I-I didn't hear very much," she lied.

"You arrived ten minutes ago," Unohana-taichō said. "You forget, unlike you, shinigami have the ability to sense when someone is outside a door."

Of course they did! How could she have been so stupid! Still hugging the files, Yuzu dropped into a low bow. "I'm really sorry! I didn't mean- "

"Now, now, there's no need to become hysterical." That was Aizen, and he sounded friendlier again. Were they going to forgive her? It wasn't like she'd overheard anything important. 

Yuzu glanced up warily. Aizen-fukutaichō was smiling at her. Maybe she'd just mistaken his expression for anger before. "I won't do it again," she said. "I promise."

Aizen's smile widened. "You say that every time," he said and raised his hand. "Not that it matters, you won't remember this one either."

Something flashed in her eyes. Yuzu blinked. How on earth had she managed to get lost on the way to Unohana-taichō's office? Still, at least she was here now. She bowed a greeting to the young noblewoman who was just leaving and went to deliver the files. It was about time she got back to work.

*

Every inch of Ichigo's body was agony when he got back to it. He dragged himself up, gasping, and was immediately blindsided by the stench of blood. His head spun, thoughts suspended between Kurotsuchi's blade and the sweet slide of hot flesh down his throat and his stomach lurched. But he couldn't puke. He didn't have time. Not when Hisagi was out there somewhere with- with-

Shoving all thought desperately aside, Ichigo rolled to his feet. The towering trees of Hisagi's inner world were gone, as was the mist of Ichigo's own. He was back in the real world, surrounded by the dust and stone of Urahara's actual training grounds, and it turned out he didn't have far to stagger. Hisagi was just the other side of the bluff, a misshapen heap of red and black and- Oh fuck. 

"Hisagi!" Ichigo threw himself down next to his friend, trying to work out where the hell to start. Pulse, that came first, didn't it?

He shoved fingers into Hisagi's bloodied neck, frantically searching, and almost sobbed in relief when he felt a pulse, thready and fast beneath his fingertips. He was still alive. And if he was still alive, maybe Ichigo could save him.

But his arm, his legs. Shit.

Ichigo's vision blurred and he swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, hardly registering that it came away wet. He didn't have time to start freaking out.

The stump next. He had to stop the bleeding.

Naked himself, he ripped at Hisagi's hakama ties, finally using his teeth to tear off enough to use as a tourniquet. That he wrapped around what was left of Hisagi's left arm and tied it tightly, watching as the blood that been pumping onto the ground subsided to nothing. Only then did he sit back on his heels and turn his attention to Hisagi's legs.

In some ways these were better, inasmuch as they were still attached. Mostly. But it wasn't good. Ichigo was no doctor, and had next to no experience with injuries beyond what he'd run into during his time at the 6th, but even he knew that the white stringy things hanging from ripped up - _not chewed. Don't think chewed_ \- flesh were tendons and that they were kind of essential if a person was ever going to move again.

The memory of his own parting under Kurotsuchi's scalpel stole back, bringing with it phantom stabs of pain.

"Fuck," Ichigo muttered, swiping his hand across his eyes again. He had to stay centred. If he let himself drift, he was going to end up having a panic attack and that wouldn't help anyone. 

A deep breath, through his mouth not his nose, helped. He took a second to remind himself that this wasn't the 12th, that the blood wasn't his, that he was safe and Kurotsuchi was dead, and then took another look. The damage was just as bad as he remembered. From mid-thigh to ankle, Hisagi's legs were tangled mass of cloth and skin and meat. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

A choked off whimper made him look up, and he found black and gold eyes fixed on him. "Kazeshini?" But no. There was none of the manic glee he'd expect to see from a hollow. These eyes were one hundred percent human, and terrified. 

"Sorry. Hisagi," Ichigo corrected himself, realising that he'd seen those eyes before, the evening round at Tōsen-taichō's when Hisagi had played waiter and the teapot got broken. Apparently he did get his body back for some things.

 _Bad? Is it bad? Is it bad? Is it bad?_

The frantic gabbled words bled into Ichigo's brain almost as loudly as Ossan or Zangetsu's voices and honestly there'd been so much strange in Ichigo's life recently that he just rolled with it.

"It's not good," he said. He probably should have lied, but he was crap at doing that and anyway Hisagi had to know, didn't he? He had to remember Ichigo tearing him up and eating- "Fuck!" There was the nausea again.

Ichigo swallowed it back down and ran fingers through hair sticky with blood. He was drenched in the stuff, kneeling in it too, a vast puddle around them soaking into the dusty ground. But he couldn't tell Hisagi that. If he hit the guy with too much negativity, he'd stop fighting. Ichigo had seen enough to know that much. "But you're gonna be fine." It sounded like a lie even to his own ears.

 _You-you can hear me?_

"Yeah, clear as a bell," Ichigo replied. "It's probably because I… You know."

_Ate me._

It was so matter of fact, so accepting. Ichigo wanted to grab the guy and shake him, tell him to be mad, tell him it was okay for him to be mad. For crap's sake, Ichigo had eaten him! What sort of a person ate their friends?"

 _It's what fracción are for,_ Hisagi said. _For a hollow. A combination of reserve forces and larder, I suppose._ He was sounding calmer. Having someone to talk to probably helped.

"That doesn't make it right," Ichigo shot back, still feeling sick, and mad at himself. And totally overwhelmed by the mess in front of him. "Anyway, who made you the expert?"

There was silence for a moment, long enough that Ichigo had moved on to, 'how the hell do you put someone's tendons back together anyway,' when Hisagi said, _When Aizen-taichō first found us, he took us to Hueco Mundo. That's where his base is, where he does his research._

"That's where he did the eye transplant and turned you into a hollow."

 _Amongst other things._ Not calmer. Quieter. Weaker. Hisagi's mental voice was fading. Despite Ichigo's efforts, he was bleeding out. 

Ichigo racked his brains for something he could do that might help. Damn idiot dad anyway for not sticking with his medical training. If he'd been a doctor instead of a mortician Ichigo might have some freaking clue right now. 

If it was his own body, Zangetsu would take care of it. 

Ichigo froze, thinking that through. Eating Hisagi had allowed him to hear Hisagi's voice. If Hisagi ate him, would some of Zangetsu's abilities bleed over into Hisagi? Like the ability to heal rapidly?

 _Zangetsu?_

It was Ossan who answered. _Zangetsu is not awake to ask and I do not know the answer. However, should you wish to try it, I can prevent undue damage to the tissues._

But not the pain. Though that, Ichigo could live with. "How much do you reckon I need to cut off?" he asked, looking around for something sharp. "A hand?" One of the scythes lay on the ground several yards away. Ichigo scrambled over to pick it up.

 _Since Zangetsu will be unable to regenerate anything for quite some time, I would suggest starting with something a little smaller,_ Ossan replied pointedly. _Perhaps a finger?_

"A finger, right, yeah, that makes sense." Laying the scythe awkwardly across his lap, Ichigo gripped it in one hand and lined up his other. The little finger would be best. But would he need all of it or just the the top? 

Something a bit like laughter, but really really wasn't, bubbled in his chest. 

If he just cut off the top joint, he'd be able to pass as one of Iba-neesan's boys.

Fuck.

The laugh turned into a choked-back sob of panic. He was really gonna do this. He had to do this. If he didn't do this, Hisagi was going to die, and it wasn't like he hadn't been badly hurt before. Between the fight with Zaraki and Kurotsuchi's tortures, he was the freaking expert in painful injuries. 

But there was a difference between someone else cutting off your body parts and deliberately doing it to yourself. Even when you knew they'd grow back later.

His hands were trembling. Letting go of the scythe, Ichigo shook them out, puffed out a breath and tried again. This time it was going to happen. Just hold the blade still and slice-

"Ow, shit!" he yelped as someone yanked the scythe away, gouging a deep cut across the back of his hand as they did so. 

"P-please don't injure yourself for no reason, Shiba-sama," the yanker said and Ichigo knew that voice, and the lack of reiatsu signature that went with it. 

He looked over at the hooded figure now stooping over Hisagi, their shaking hands glowing green. "Hanatarō?"

The little negator bobbed his head in acknowledgement. "I-I'm sorry I wasn't quicker, Shiba-sama, but the reiatsu…" The stuttered words trailed off into guilty silence and Ichigo knew better than to press for an explanation. If Hanatarō had been close by when he and Hisagi had been fighting, he'd probably been knocked sideways. 

Finally letting some level of relief overwrite his concern, Ichigo shuffled over to see if there was anything he could do to help. Hanatarō was very obviously focused on trying to do something with Hisagi's legs, so Ichigo plopped onto the ground near his head and patted him awkwardly on the less injured shoulder. 

"See," he said when Hisagi blinked up at him, "You should be nicer to people. You never know when you might need them."

Black and gold eyes flicked to Hanatarō and back. _I would never be mean to Hanatarō-san,_ he said.

Ichigo snorted in amused disbelief. "Says the guy who nearly made him piss himself."

"That wasn't Hisagi-san," Hanatarō said, immediately. "His reiatsu was completely different."

Because that had been Kazeshini. "Does my reiatsu change when Zangetsu comes out?"

Another head bob. "Of course. Hollow reiatsu tastes very different to a shinigami's."

Taste. Ichigo's stomach rumbled at the reminder, though from hunger or nausea he couldn't tell any longer, and he gazed around the training grounds to try and distract himself. 

It didn't work. His mind returned determinedly to Hanatarō's words. He'd forgotten that Hanatarō 'tasted' reiatsu like a hollow did. Originally Ichigo had thought it was a Quincy thing, since that was how it used to work for him, but now he wasn't so sure because when he consciously used only his Quincy abilities, reiatsu sensing was more like a second sight than either taste or smell. It left him wondering if whatever had been done to Hanatarō to make him a negator had involved hollows as well. 

Urahara probably knew the answer. As would Kurotsuchi and Aizen. And Ichigo would rather cut every one of his own limbs off than ask any of them.

"I-I'm sorry, Shiba-sama," Hanatarō said suddenly, jerking Ichigo back from his scientist hate-fest. The little negator was kneeling beside Hisagi's legs as he'd been before, but his shoulders were slumped and his hands were no longer glowing green.

Panic immediately spiked through Ichigo before he realised he could still sense Hisagi's reiatsu. Not dead then. Thank crap. 

Hanatarō was continuing. "I've done my best, but my skills aren't sufficient. I'm sorry, all I can do is save his life." He hung his head, like he had something to be ashamed of.

"Oi," Ichigo barked, "What have I told you about apologising for things that aren't your fault."

"N-not to do it?" Hanatarō stuttered, but he wasn't shaking, so Ichigo took that as a win.

"Absolutely. You saved someone's life. Without you, he'd have died. You've done good."

 _Please tell Hanatarō-san 'thank you' from me,_ Hisagi said quietly inside Ichigo's head. _I'm very grateful for everything he's done._

"Oh and Hisagi says thanks," Ichigo added. 

That earned him a flash of a smile, partially hidden beneath drooping skin, before Hanatarō turned to his patient. "It's nothing Hisagi-san. You do nice things for people all the time."

And that was getting a bit too touchy-feely for Ichigo. "So, what do we do now?" he asked. "I could get him to the 4th."

"I would highly recommend against that," a voice said from behind them.

Ichigo threw himself to his feet, reaching for the sword that he didn't have. Fuck! Kidō it was then. Both hands out and reiatsu building, he snapped, "What the hell are you doing here?" 

"Well, I hate to point out the obvious, but these are my training grounds," Urahara replied, as he slipped off one of those annoying reiatsu suppressing cloaks. Beneath it he was dressed in plain shinigami blacks with no sign of his captain's haori. "Did you honestly think it wouldn't be monitored?"

Honestly, Ichigo hadn't even thought about it. He'd been too busy worrying about Hisagi. Still, he wasn't about to let that stop him. "Sōkatsui," he snarled on principle, letting the kidō rip.

As he'd expected, Urahara flicked it away with a casual gesture and simply gave him a raised eyebrow as if to say, that's the best you can do? It wasn't, and Urahara knew it. After all, he'd come off second best in the last fight they'd had. 

_Hey, Zangetsu, you up for round two?_

Again it was Ossan who answered because, of course, how could Ichigo have forgotten. _Zangetsu is unavailable right now. I, on the other hand, stand more than prepared to melt this particular shinigami's face off._

Strong words from the Quincy. Then again, it had been him who Urahara had effectively torpedoed when he'd hollowfied Zangetsu and set him free, so yeah, no wonder Ossan was holding a grudge. Still, Ichigo didn't reckon much for his chances if he had to get close enough to touch Urahara, not when he had Benihime hanging from his belt.

But Urahara didn't have to know any of that. 

Keeping his stance, Ichigo curled his lip. "Don't make me keep asking."

"You haven't actually asked anything-" Urahara began.

Ichigo lunged towards him, hands out, and Urahara danced back out of reach, a smile flitting across his lips. It had been a test, Ichigo realised, and he'd just failed, damn it. Urahara now knew exactly how weak he currently was.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Urahara continued, smile becoming a smirk, "I'm here because I saw the pair of you fighting and I was fairly certain at least one of you would be in need of my services." He glanced pointedly at Hisagi. "Nor was I wrong."

"We don't need help from someone who turns people into hollows," Ichigo shot back, his distrust of Urahara temporarily overcoming his worry for Hisagi. Worst case scenario, he'd carry the guy to the 4th himself.

"It's a little late for that, for both of you, and the negator is a completely unsuitable candidate."

"He's called Hanatarō," Ichigo ground out.

Urahara's smirk widened. Another test, another failure on Ichigo's part. He'd forgotten what it was like talking to this man. Resisting the urge to simply stomp over there and punch him, Ichigo said grudgingly, "Can you help him?"

Again Urahara's gaze strayed to Hisagi. "Probably," he said, and then added, "For a price."

That punch idea was looking better and better. "After what you did, you owe me so fucking much you'll still be paying it off next century," Ichigo growled.

Urahara's brows rose. "Such a short payment plan. My, you must really enjoy- Ow!"

It had been just a fist, not even reiatsu assisted, and lacking even a hint of Quincy power, but by all the gods it felt so good. Watching Urahara press fingers to his nose, Ichigo grimaced a smile. "You can look at him," he said, "But I swear, you do anything bad to him, I will eat you next."

All pretence of amusement dropped from Urahara's expression as he lowered his hand. He tipped his head, doing that thing where his eyes suddenly seemed shadowed. "Understood, Shiba-san. Though in return I would ask that you don't leave this place until I say you can."

"You're keeping me prisoner?" Ichigo shot back. Not that he wanted to leave, but there was a difference between wanting to go and not being allowed. 

"Not as such," Urahara replied. "More asking for an extension of the licence you gave Yoruichi-san. The alternative would be for you to return immediately to the Senzaikyū."

"No," Ichigo replied without hesitation. "I'm not going back there." Tsukishima and Kurotsuchi had already got to him in there. If he went back, he'd be a sitting duck.

"Which is your only choice, should you refuse to remain here." Urahara raised his hands in surrender. "Currently no-one out there apart from me knows that you're here. Should you leave, that will surely change and then Kyōraku will insist, I'm afraid, and I have no means to argue against him."

Ichigo heaved a sigh. Gods but he hated this man so damned much. "Fine, I'll stay-" Urahara opened his mouth to speak, so Ichigo added, "And I'll make sure the others do too. Though Hisagi isn't in a fit state to go anywhere."

"Which is an excellent cue for me to start treating him, don't you think?" Urahara beamed, and thus the frilly fool was back. Ichigo wanted to strangle him. Instead he stood aside and let Urahara get to Hisagi. The scientist knelt at Hisagi's side and then surprised Ichigo by saying gently, "Hello, Shūhei-kun. How are you?"

"You know him?" Ichigo demanded, striding forward.

Urahara glanced up. "How else did you think he knew about this place," he said dryly.

Ichigo looked around. It hadn't actually occurred to him to wonder, and it kind of took the wind out of his protest sails to have that pointed out. "I dunno. I guess…. I guess I just thought that most people did?" Everyone Ichigo knew seemed to anyway. 

"It's true that there's a great many more in the know since you came on the scene, but it's still not quite everyone, yet," Urahara said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he began checking Hisagi's injuries. The stump he only gave a cursory once over before turning to the mess that was Hisagi's legs. Tutting under his breath, Urahara produced a cloth parcel from inside his shihakushō and unrolled it. As he did so, he asked, "Do I need to restrain you?"

For a second, Ichigo thought Urahara was talking to him, but no, it was Hisagi the question was aimed at. 

Hisagi, who'd draped his remaining arm over his face, made a series of sharp gestures at which Urahara nodded. "So long as you're sure. I don't think either of us wants a visit from your less co-operative alter ego."

He had to mean Kazeshini. Ichigo hadn't even considered that he'd make a reappearance. 

Hisagi made the same gestures again, and this time Urahara seemed to accept his argument. In any case, he laid the cloth on the ground. Inside were a selection of what looked like surgical instruments and he carefully selected a pair of long pointed tweezers. To get the cloth out of the wounds, Ichigo hazarded, because even he knew that you could heal something up with that much gunk inside.

But that was going to hurt and Urahara hadn't mentioned painkillers. They tended not to in Seireitei in Ichigo's experience. Which was great if all you had was a broken bone which was going to be healed up really quick, but those legs… Ichigo wanted to cringe just looking at them. It was going to be unbearable, even for someone as stoic as Hisagi, and the best Ichigo could offer him was a bit of distraction. But would Hisagi even want that, or would he find Ichigo being there intrusive? 

"Shiba-san, your negator friend has healing kidō, does he not?" Urahara asked suddenly.

Ichigo jerked, his attention zooming back to Urahara, and Hanatarō, who'd gone missing again. "Yeah. It was him who stopped Hisagi bleeding out." Where the hell was he anyway? Ichigo hunted around, quickly sensing Hanatarō's tell-tale lack of presence off behind a nearby stone outcrop.

"And an admirable job he made of it, however I will need his help with the rest."

"I'll go fetch him," Ichigo said, swallowing hard as Urahara carefully tugged a scrap of black cloth out of Hisagi's leg. There were bits of flesh attached to it. On second thoughts, maybe he didn't blame his dad for flunking out of medical school after all.

"You do that," Urahara replied, going in for another piece. "And while you're at it, perhaps you can find some clothes to wear. The nude look is somewhat distracting."

Heat shot to Ichigo's cheeks. How had he managed to forget that he wasn't wearing anything? It was Urahara's fault, he decided as he stalked off, blushing furiously. The guy always rattled him with his smart mouth and double think. No wonder it had slipped his mind.

He found Hanatarō behind the outcrop, digging through a brown leather bag, the one that Ichigo had bought him to replace the one he'd lost when the 13th went up in flames. 

The fact that he had it with him told Ichigo that his presence here was more than just a day trip. "You okay?" Ichigo asked.

Hanatarō paused for a moment before resuming his search. "I'm fine, Shiba-sama, thank you very much for asking," he replied quietly, delving deeper into the bag. A second later he pulled out a blue and white star-patterned yukata, which he held out to Ichigo. "I'm sorry it won't fit you properly, but it's all I have."

"No, that's great," Ichigo said, reaching for the yukata. Seeing the state of his hands, he hesitated. "Erm, I shouldn't. I'll ruin it. I'm kind of covered in blood." 

"Shiba-sama, I knew that when I offered it to you." Going by that tone of voice, if Hanatarō had had eyes, he'd have been rolling them.

Ichigo took the yukata without anymore argument. Sure enough, it was way too small, if he so much as breathed he was going to rip the shoulders out, so he ended up wrapping it around his waist as a kind of short skirt. Not exactly stylish, but better than letting it all hang out like he had been. 

"Hey," he said as he tied it off, a sudden thought occurring, "Any chance you could grab me some clean stuff from the house later? Bring it here for me."

Hanatarō was back in his bag, and at Ichigo' words, his shoulders hunched even higher than usual. There was something bothering him. Something about the estate or the 6th.

Trying not to sound worried, Ichigo said, "Things get so bad at home that you had to move out?"

Apparently he failed on some level because Hanatarō folded in on himself, stuttering, "N-no, Yoruichi-sama has been very thoughtful and kind."

"But?" Ichigo prompted after a long moment of silence, because no way was that story complete. 

More silence, then so quietly that Ichigo had to strain to hear, "She was very busy, so Soifon-fukutaichō has taken over the day to day running of the division."

That would be the same Soifon who'd beaten Hanatarō for withholding information during the attempted coup, and broken Hisana's jaw. Everything was now clear. And fuck Yoruichi for doing that to his people anyway. "No wonder you left then," Ichigo said bitterly. "I'd have gone too, if she was giving the orders."

"You… would?" Hanatarō said hopefully, head lifting as he turned towards Ichigo.

Honestly, he'd probably put her down like he had the last time, but he wasn't Hanatarō. Grasping the negator's shoulder, Ichigo gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Absolutely. Plus, you knew I'd be back, and then you'd have come home, right?" 

"Yes, definitely, Shiba-sama! I love it at the 6th. It's my home now."

"Mine too," Ichigo replied, though that wasn't strictly true. Home for Ichigo would always be wherever his lovers and the rest of his family were. Which should be Karakura right now, if Chad had done his job properly.

Hanatarō seemed about to say more when Urahara carolled, "Oh Shiba-san!"

At the sound of his voice, Hanatarō froze. Ichigo gave him a concerned look and asked, "You okay?"

"Y-yes," Hanatarō stuttered, clutching the knees of his hakama in his customary tell of fear. "But I-I…" He gasped. "His reiatsu… Shiba-sama, have you tasted him?"

He must have done when Zangetsu was fighting him, but Ichigo couldn't remember it. "No," he said. "But I'll take a stab and say he's not all sunshine and puppies."

A shudder ran through Hanatarō and he hunched forward. "He tastes of sharp things, twisting and cutting." 

That sounded about right. Honestly, Ichigo was surprised that half of the Gotei didn't taste like that. He said as much. 

Hanatarō looked up at him, his hood dropping back enough that the folds of skin where his face used to be were clearly visible. "Oh no," he said. "Most of them don't taste like that at all."

Only the ones who cut people up, like Kurotsuchi and Urahara. Maybe Unohana too, given that Hanatarō had been created by the 4th, though Ichigo would never dare ask. 

Then there was Aizen. But he didn't count, because even his reiatsu lied.

"Sometime soon, if you would, Shiba-san!" Urahara carolled again, and he was starting to sound insistent. 

"How about if I stick with you," Ichigo asked, glancing towards where Urahara was still working on Hisagi. He was loathe to not answer Urahara's call since Urahara probably wouldn't have asked for Hanatarō's help if he didn't need it. But he was equally reluctant to make Hanatarō face someone who terrified him.

But when he looked back, Hanatarō was already moving, albeit slowly. "You d-don't have to. Not just for me. I know you don't like him either."

"You're right, I don't like the guy, but it's not just for you. Hisagi's my friend. I'm not gonna leave him there alone for any longer than I have to." No more than he'd leave Hanatarō. Not that the little guy would let fear stop him. In Ichigo's experience, Hanatarō managed to achieve more terrified out of his mind than most people did normally. 

Together, they made their way back over to Hisagi, who was as naked now as Ichigo had been. What was left of his clothes was reduced to a pile of rags beside him. Urahara flicked a quick glance up at them when they arrived. "Ah good," he said, putting aside a long metal tool and picking up one that looked a bit like a stapler. "Negator-san, please heal as I connect things back together." 

Ichigo, deciding that he didn't want to know, gave Hanatarō an encouraging pat on the back and went to say hi to the speaking end of Hisagi, if Hisagi could actually speak that is. "How are you doing?" he asked, hunkering down to try and preserve what was left of his modesty. When the yukata rode up anyway, Ichigo gave up and simply plopped down beside Hisagi. They could be semi-naked together.

Hisagi still had his arm over his face and was breathing heavily, but he still managed to flash a lopsided smile up at Ichigo. _I'm okay,_ he said, though the sweat on his upper lid told a different story. He was hurting and trying not to let it show. Having been there, Ichigo knew that if painkillers weren't an option, distraction was the next best thing. Renji had been the go-to guy for that. He always managed to annoy Ichigo into focusing on him instead of whatever was being done. So, as an opening gambit, Ichigo tried, "How come you and the creep know each other?" 

"He used to live here," Urahara said, at the same moment as Hisagi replied, _He was the one who got me out of the camps._

"What! Why?" blurted Ichigo, because really, Urahara did not seem the type to adopt random children from Rukongai. 

"So I could keep an eye on him. Back then, he had some very promising reiryoku readings," Urahara said, as if that explained anything. 

Though, knowing Seireitei's scientists, maybe it did. "He was your lab rat!" It wasn't even a question. It didn't need to be. 

Nor did Urahara try and deny it. "Hardly a rat. More…" he cocked his head slightly, "a potentially useful demi-demon."

"Demon?" Ichigo repeated in confusion.

_He's talking about Kazeshini. Urahara-san has a fascination with zanpakutō which might be related to deities._

The guy had the hots for gods. Somehow that came as absolutely no surprise.

"Of a kind," Urahara was saying as if Ichigo was having this conversation with him. "Though it turned out to be a minor creature, of no particular significance. Now then, negator-san, healing here, if you would be so kind."

Hanatarō's hands glowed green, and Hisagi tensed. Ichigo needed get his attention, quickly, but every time he spoke to the guy, Urahara answered for him, and distracting Urahara right this second seemed like a monumentally bad idea. So, turning his back on Urahara, Ichigo directed his thoughts inward and said, _Can you hear me if I talk like this?_

_Yeah,_ Hisagi answered tightly. _But don't tell Urahara-san._

Ichigo hadn't been planning to since even he'd twigged that the guy had no idea it was happening, but he agreed anyway and followed it up with, _So he's the one who hollowfied you, huh._

_Kind of. It's complicated._

That came out through mentally gritted teeth. Ichigo risked a glance behind him and saw fresh blood on Urahara's hands. He looked away again. _Complicated how?_

The pain in Hisagi's voice was palpable when he replied, _Because he did it to fix me, and because I asked him to do it._

If being turned into a hollow was the fix, Ichigo didn't want to think what the problem had been. 

_I was turning anyway, in bits and pieces. It was the eyes. They were like an infection neither of us could fight against and fucking hell, I'm gonna kill this bastard if he doesn't stop right now!_ Hisagi's whole body went rigid with pain for the longest moment before going slack with relief. Either that or he passed out. Ichigo couldn't tell.

Putting his stapler thing to one side, Urahara sat back. "All finished. Thank you very much for all your help, negator-san."

Hanatarō dipped his head politely, but didn't speak. It was left up to Ichigo to point at the open mangled mess that was still Hisagi's legs and say, "You can't just leave them like that. What about dressings? Or sewing him up or-"

"Patience, Shiba-san!" Urahara carolled in that really smug tone he had when he knew something you didn't and he was going to lord it over you every step of the way. And yes it did annoy Ichigo, thank you very much. One of these days he was going to kill the guy for it on principle.

But not today. 

"The zanpakutō next, I think. If you could bring it over please, Shiba-san?"

Ichigo scowled but did as he was asked, picking up the scythe and carrying back to Hisagi, who still seemed to be out cold, even though Urahara was shaking him and calling his name. "Ah, thank you," Urahara said, taking the scythe and hefting it in one hand. With his other, he conjured a small ball of white kidō and, without hesitating, smacked it into the blade.

Hisagi practically levitated off the ground, a snarl twisting his lips, black and gold eyes narrowed with vicious temper. Not Hisagi; Kazeshini. Ichigo took a step back. Not so Urahara, who held his ground when the hollowfied spirit lunged for him, and failed to connect when Hisagi's legs refused to move. Urahara must have done something to immobilise them. 

"There you are," Urahara said calmly, holding up the scythe. "I know you hate being in that body when it's injured but Shūhei can't seal this and he needs the extra reiryoku for healing, so if you could oblige…"

Another snarl and inside his head Ichigo heard, _Fucking shitheaded bastard. Gonna rip him up, tear him down, break him apart, smash his bones to pieces. Gonna-_

"Whoa!" Ichigo took another step back, this one to try and put some distance inside his head as well as out. He'd thought Zangetsu was bad, but he was a poster boy for polite compared to Kazeshini.

"If you don't do it, I'll break the blade," Urahara was saying.

That brought on another round of cursing, which ended with, _Can't do it without fucking permission. You, gimme permission to seal the blade now before I rip your fucking face off._

Since black and gold eyes had landed on him, Ichigo guessed he was the one being spoken to. _You can seal it,_ he said, adding a hurried, _Please,_ because he really didn't want to antagonise this character any more than he already had. What would it be like to have this living inside your head? He was starting to understand how come Hisagi was scared of his zanpakutō spirit, though not why Kazeshini was the one in charge.

 _Because he refused to fight,_ Kazeshini snarled. _So I pinned the cowardly little shit down and carved it into his fucking ugly face!_

Hisagi's body slumped. At the same moment, the scythe in Urahara's hands collapsed back into a simple katana, what was left of the blade chipped up something fierce. Ichigo stared between it and the brutal scars on Hisagi's face, facts and memories rearranging themselves in his horrified mind. Urahara had taken Hisagi from the camps as a child because he was powerful. Under his training, shikai would have come easily, but bankai, that was something different. According to Byakuya, manifesting a zanpakutō spirit took training and commitment and countless hours sitting jinzen. You couldn't just force it-

Unless you were Urahara with a contraption that could drag a spirit out into the world and make the fight happen, whether someone was ready for it or not. 

And then there was that conversation Ichigo had had with Yoruichi before he'd entered the training grounds for a dose of Urahara's special bankai training himself. 'How many people have survived this,' he'd asked her. 'Two,' she'd said, not counting Urahara himself. 

Had Hisagi been one of them? Could you even call it survival, trapped inside his own mind as an adjunct to a murderous zanpakutō spirit that had used its own blade to carve out its wielder's eyes when he'd backed out of a fight he hadn't wanted in the first place. No wonder Hisagi was terrified of it.

"Who was the other one?" Ichigo demanded without thinking.

Urahara, who was clearing up rags and instruments, flashed an odd look in Ichigo's direction. "Other who?"

He knew and he knew Ichigo knew, he was just being an ass. Gritting his teeth, Ichigo growled, "Poor bastard who 'survived' your damned bankai machine." He didn't bother making air quotes, his tone said everything it needed to.

Urahara's hands faltered for a moment, then he said in that sing-song tone, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Shiba-san-erk!"

There might be rules against drawing a sword on another Captain, but there wasn't against shaking one till his teeth rattled. Ichigo tightened his hold on Urahara's shihakushō, yanked him up until they were nose to nose, and snarled, "Answer me."

Urahara grabbed his wrist, and the world moved. Up became down, Ichigo's feet vanished from under him and he smacked face-first into the ground, arm up behind him, thumb bent and stretched and, "Ow, fuck! You bastard!"

"Manners, Shiba-san," Urahara replied, and there was a note in his voice that Ichigo recognised from his dad. This far and no further. You've crossed a line.

Since Ichigo didn't actually want to start a real fight with Urahara - for starters he wouldn't stand a chance with Zangetsu out of action - he smacked the ground with his free hand in the universal sign of giving up. Urahara released him immediately but didn't move, which meant that when Ichigo rolled over, he was still there, crouched above Ichigo, gazing down at him. 

"What did Yoruichi-san tell you?" he asked once they were facing each other.

Ichigo glared up into grey eyes that were now more curious than angry and huffed, "That there were two others apart from you. Three, I guess, now." If he included himself.

"And you still came?" Urahara stood up and moved away. "I'm impressed, Shiba-san. Those were terrible odds to risk."

Ichigo levered up into a sit. "I was desperate, alright, otherwise I'd have told you where to shove it." He snorted as the memory of how difficult that decision had been to make came back to him. "No, I wouldn't even have sent the damned letter."

"And yet you did."

"Yeah, and gave you a chance to turn me into a fucking monster."

Urahara raised his hand and drew it across his face. As it passed, a mask formed, pure white, but for the red-lipped grinning mouth. It held for a second before dissolving again. "That part I was fairly sure would work," he said, turning away. "Despite your Quincy heritage. The bankai was more of a risk." 

"Why've you got it anyway?" Ichigo asked. "That machine. I mean, there can't be that many people who need to make bankai in three days."

Urahara graced him with shrug. "You'd be surprised," he said. "But that's not the tenshintai's primary purpose. Simply a useful side application."

What other use could a thing like that have? Dragging out a zanpakutō spirit and forcing it to stay manifested. 

Put like that though, it kind of reminded Ichigo of something.

A page from a book Byakuya had shown him rose in Ichigo's mind, of an androgynous robed figure standing beside a Kuchiki with the kenseiken in his hair. "It does what Kōga used to do," he realised, with a disbelieving head-shake. Fixing Urahara with an interrogative stare, he said, "Is it used for the same thing?"

Urahara inclined his head non-commitally, "It has that potential, but it's less reliable than Kuchiki Kōga's zanpakutō. After all its design was based purely on hearsay and secondhand accounts, since Muramasa itself was already dead."

That dated its invention pretty accurately. It was recent, very recent in Seireitei terms. "You invented it to replace him," Ichigo said, stringing together facts that seemed to make sense.

Another vague head movement. Honestly having a conversation with this guy was impossible. The number of layers was stupid. Ichigo returned to Hisagi's side, watching as Urahara continued tidying away the pile of rags. The alternative use for the tenshintai didn't bother him that much. As interrogation methods went, it beat thumbscrews every day of the week. But there were some details that made no sense. For starters, why hadn't they used the thing on Renji when he'd been accused of trying to kill Byakuya?

Because Renji had bankai. That had to be the answer. If you could manifest the spirit yourself, then it wouldn't work. Was Kōga's ability the same, or was that what Urahara meant by the tenshintai not being as reliable. 

Hisagi stirred. Ichigo's attention was back on him in a flash, a hand resting on his good shoulder. "Hey," he said, "You back with us?"

Black and gold eyes that were once again sane and rational, rolled slightly. _Of course I am. This part's my job._

Dealing with the pain and the healing, Ichigo guessed. And yeah, he couldn't see someone like Kazeshini enjoying that bit very much. "This and making tea, huh." 

Hisagi frowned. _He's been here, hasn't he. Do I need to apologise?_

"Not for anything he said, no. He's not you, so why should you?"

As Ichigo spoke, Hisagi's gaze flicked to something over Ichigo's left shoulder. Then Urahara said, "If you're both finished chatting, we do need to get on."

"No." Ichigo stood, deliberately put himself between Urahara and Hisagi, arms folded across his chest. "You're not doing anything without his say-so. He's not your lab-rat anymore."

"Then what is he, Shiba-kun?" Urahara snapped with some level of exasperation. "I'll tell you, shall I? A crippled half-hollow who'll never walk again if you don't get out of the way and let me finish healing him!" 

That was about the only thing Urahara could have said to get Ichigo to move. Even so, he didn't let his guard down. Instead, as he stepped out of the way, he shot back an accusing, "You said you'd done everything you could." 

"In terms of stabilising, yes," Urahara replied, crouching to examine Hisagi's legs. To Ichigo's untutored eye, they looked almost the same as before, but Urahara must have noticed a difference because, after a moment, he hummed thoughtfully, and muttered, "Better, but not good enough." 

"I-I can heal some more if you need me to, Urahara-taichō-san," Hanatarō stuttered. He was bowing deeply, clutching his hakama again, and looked on the verge of bolting. It was amazing really that he'd hung around for as long as he had.

Urahara stood up and levelled a long look at the little negator, long enough that Ichigo could see Hanatarō starting to shiver. The bastard was only doing it to intimidate him, which was beyond mean when the only thing Hanatarō had done was volunteer to help. Just as Ichigo was on the verge of telling him to back the hell off, Urahara's expression broke into a beaming smile and every bit of that odd intimidating tension drained out of him, replaced once again by the frilly fool.

"No, no," he carolled. "There's no point in you draining your limited reiatsu, negator-san." With a careless wave of his hand, he strode off, calling back over his shoulder, "Make yourself useful, Shiba-san, and bring the patient this way, if you please."

All Ichigo could do was gape after him. What the hell was the idiot playing at now? Unless… Wasn't the exit that way? Was Urahara finally planning on taking Hisagi to the 4th?

 _No,_ came Hisagi's voice, tired and defeated. _He's talking about the healing springs._

"There's a healing springs?" Ichigo turned towards him. Hisagi had his arm draped over his face again, making him look the very picture of misery. "And at a guess, you don't want to go," Ichigo hazarded.

One shoulder, the good one, shrugged slightly. _I guess I don't have much choice._

That wasn't an answer that Ichigo was prepared to accept. "You've always got a choice. Do you want me to take you to the 4th, or find Yamada-fukutaichō again, because I can do that."

Hisagi grimaced. _Urahara won't want Yamada in here, and Unohana-taichō doesn't let me in the 4th._ He sounded so resentful and petulant that for a moment Ichigo was reminded of dealing with his sisters.

"Hanatarō then. He managed to stop the bleeding before." 

"Y-yes. I'm happy to try again, Hisagi-san, if you need me to-"

Hisagi cut him off with a decisive head-shake. _No. He'd be useless for this. He hasn't got enough reiatsu._

No way was Ichigo passing that on. It'd knock Hanatarō's self-confidence sideways. He tried again. "What about Kira. He already knows about this place-"

 _Just… just take me to the springs,_ Hisagi snapped. _And stop being so nice._ He began struggling to sit up. _I don't need your pity._

"Hey!" Ichigo grabbed him, half to help and half just to make his point. "This isn't about pity, this is about you being a person and getting a choice about what happens to you."

 _Except I'm not a person. I'm half of a monster and the minute I'm fixed he'll send me back inside again and then he'll just kill and kill and-_ The words ended in a choked off moan, and Hisagi hunched over. _I hate it. I hide in there and try to forget that out here even exists, but I can't! He won't let me! He drags me out and makes me see what he's done, makes me handle the fall-out and then laughs in my face when I get scared or upset and I hate him! I hate him so fucking much! Why can't he just leave me alone!_

Pushed back on his heels with the force of Hisagi's outburst, Ichigo let him cool off for a second before saying quietly, "Have you tried talking to him about it?"

The look he got from Hisagi was poisonous. And yeah, he probably deserved that. Having experienced Kazeshini's attitude earlier, he didn't seem like the most rational of people. Yet he'd been fine with the junior version of Hisagi. The kid had even gone back into the woods to find him again, so he couldn't be all bad. 

But what did Ichigo know. He was no expert at zanpakutō/shinigami relations. Dragging his thoughts away from any more speculation, he offered Hisagi a hand up and with Hanatarō's help managed to at least get Hisagi upright. From there, Ichigo was able to hoist Hisagi up over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. It wasn't the most comfortable for any of them, too much naked skin for one thing, but with Hisagi's legs so badly damaged and his stump only partially healed, it was about the only way to carry him without causing too much more pain.

The hot spring was tucked behind a towering rock formation several hundred yards beyond the entrance ladder. Urahara was waiting for them, standing knee-deep, pants rolled up. They eased Hisagi down into the water, which steamed pleasantly hot and smelled faintly sweet. It also had to be circulating somehow, because the slew of bloody water immediately dissipated, and the pool remained as clear as a bell. 

Even so, Ichigo gave the whole set-up a doubtful once-over. It didn't exactly look special. Actually, it looked like any number of mountain onsen back in the living world that claimed to have healing powers. "I don't see how this is going to help," he said. "Healing springs are great if you've got a strained muscle but those injuries need a bit more than a long soak."

"That's because you've never experienced these springs for yourself," Urahara replied, removing the tourniquet from Hisagi's arm before climbing out of the pool himself. Hisagi grimaced, moving the stump back and forth before lowering it gingerly into the steaming pool. After watching him carefully for a moment, Urahara nodded and said, "Right, Shuuhei-kun. Keep soaking it. At least an hour, to start with." 

He was rolling his hakama back down, which meant he was probably leaving. "Hang on," Ichigo said, "You never told me who the other survivor was."

Urahara glanced up. "No, I didn't, did I," he said brightly. "Nor do I plan to. There is such a thing as research confidentiality, you know, Shiba-san." Then, with a jaunty half-wave, he stepped into shunpo, leaving an amused, "Have fun boys. I'll be back later," in his wake.

Clamping his teeth closed around some choice comments that he was oh so tempted to scream after the smug bastard, Ichigo waited for his temper to cool some before stripping off his yukata-skirt. By then Hanatarō had taken a seat on the rocks around the edge of the pool and had his knees tucked up under his chin, his arms wrapped around them. 

Leaving him to his thoughts, Ichigo headed for the opposite side of the pool to Hisagi, who cut a creepily silent figure just sitting there, gaze fixed firmly on the water lapping around him. If it was doing anything at all, the results had to be invisible, because Ichigo couldn't see any changes to his legs or his stump. Then again, they were all significant wounds. Maybe it'd just take time.

He slid into the pool, feet first, gasping at the heat and then the slight fizz against his skin. A heartbeat later, the fizz became a burn and suddenly blinding terror - not his own, Zangetsu's - swamped him, visceral and too real, of acid eating him away from the outside in until there was nothing left but bones swimming in Ichigo soup-

 _Relax, it's only water._

It wasn't much, just Ossan's voice, but it was enough to jerk him back from the edge. Ichigo open his eyes and found himself half-submerged in the pool, staring at the sky. He panted, waiting for his pounding heart to slow a little and then slowly sat up, raising a hand clear of the water, just to be sure. The skin was fine. In fact, it was better than fine. The slice that the scythe had gouged across the back of his hand was gone, with only a slight pinkish scar left to show it had ever been there.

"It heals!" he blurted, which yes, Urahara had been trying to tell him that, but… Urahara! The guy was a liar and a manipulator, so Ichigo wasn't exactly about to trust him on anything. But he did seem to be right about this. "Hey," he said, turning to Hisagi, "Your legs. Will it heal them up properly? What about your arm?"

Hisagi's gaze lifted for second, black and gold set amongst deep scars, and Ichigo flinched. It hadn't healed those properly, so of course it wouldn't regenerate his arm. If it could do that, then he could have got rid of the hollow eyes a long time ago. 

Crap. Ichigo's heart sunk in sudden realisation. Hisagi might hate Kazeshini, but it was the zanpakutō spirit's prowess in the Pits that kept Hisagi in his job at the 5th, and Ichigo couldn't see Hirako having much time for a lieutenant with one arm that couldn't fight properly. Was that what was bothering him so much?

"You know," he said, a bit tentatively because the last thing Hisagi needed was Ichigo trampling all over his insecurities even more than he had done already, "If Hirako chucks you out, you can come to the 6th."

Now Hisagi just looked deeply confused. _Why would taichō- Oh, right. You mean this._ He glanced down, lifting the stump, _This won't be a problem. Taichō'll just send me to the 12th for a bit, or back to Aizen._

"Fuck off!" Ichigo shot back immediately. "I told you, I'll take you. You can become Shiba, like Hanatarō's going to." The strangled squawk from the negator suggested he maybe should have mentioned that bit to Hanatarō first before telling anyone else, but Ichigo wasn't about to let that stop him. "I mean it. I'm fed up with the bastards in this place using people and then just dumping them when it gets inconvenient. Or screwing them over some other way. You don't do that with people."

Hisagi was shaking his head, but there was a small smile just visible on his face. _You're on trial for your life, your clan's on the verge of being destroyed again, and you're still handing out offers to monsters. You're insane, Shiba-taichō._

"Eh, you're not the first person to say that." Ichigo shrugged. "Renji's always telling me I'm mad for trying to change things."

That dragged an honest to god laugh out of Hisagi. _Like he's a one to talk. You two totally deserve each other. I couldn't believe it when I heard he'd finally signed up to the Gotei._

"You knew Renji before?" Ichigo asked, enthusiastically. He vaguely remembered Renji saying something about that, but none of the details had stuck, and just having the chance to talk about one of his lovers with someone who wouldn't condemn them out of hand was amazing.

Black and gold eyes, full of human warmth rose to meet Ichigo's steady gaze. _I sure did. He was a little spitfire back at the camps. Always in trouble for something. I could tell you some stories…_

Ichigo sank back into the warm healing waters of the spring, his whole being starting to unwind, and said, "Well, I've got acres of time to listen."

*

"Achoo!" Renji groaned as a sneeze rattled his poor sore brain, and he yanked the covers over his head. They stank of sex, which fit perfectly with the way the rest of him felt. Funny, he didn't remember Byakuya and him starting to fuck again, but this deep muscle ache that spoke of things being stretched and used in all the right ways was unmistakable. Then again, going by the equally unmistakable throbbing in his head, they'd probably got drunk before they did it. Not a bad move really. And it was about time they tried. Byakuya had been on his best behaviour recently and Renji had been getting fed up with nothing but his right hand for company.

A shrill trilling sound started up somewhere near his feet. Renji did his best to ignore it till it went away, which it did after a minute or two, only to start up again a few minutes later, just as he was on the cusp of some more much needed sleep. It kind of sounded like an alarm, except it was more like a phone and- Crap!

Renji scrambled for the phone, his mind bouncing from trouble at the club to appointments missed. He picked it up and aimed for 'Moshi moshi?' What actually came out was more of a,"Mlorgh?" as his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. There was silence at the other end of the line for a second and then a woman's voice said tentatively, "Room 212?"

212? Renji tried to parse what the hell she was on about. Was he supposed to be _at_ a room 212? The club didn't have numbers like that, in fact the only place he knew that did was the hospital and… Had he fallen asleep there?

"Sir?" She was starting to sound a bit annoyed. 

Painfully, Renji opened his eyes. The phone was on the bed in front of him, and printed on it in nice clear numbers was 212. "Er, yeah. Yeah, I'm 212." 

It still wasn't clear, but apparently it was good enough for the woman. Brightening up no end, she chirruped, "This is your requested wake-up call, sir. The time is eight thirty, and there is half an hour before the room must be vacated."

Vacated. This still wasn't making any sense.

The phone went dead. Renji hung up his end and squinted around. The room was pretty ordinary with bland cream coloured walls and several large windows all down one wall. Probably a hotel, but utterly unfamiliar to him.

Where the hell was he?

Head throbbing, he slid off the bottom of the bed; apparently he'd been sleeping in it upside down; drew back pale golden curtains and stared out of the window. The street below was busy with the kind of morning crowds he expected to see around Shinjūku, which was no help at all, but the building opposite was a sentō and he recognised the sign. Now Renji knew where he was, or thought he might, because that sentō was opposite Purrfection, a cat-themed hostess bar, and he was pretty sure that above the club in the same building was a hotel. 

Okay, that answered the where. Now he just had to work out why and how.

But, first things first. Letting the curtain drop, Renji turned and staggered back across the room towards a door that he really hoped was a bathroom. 

It was, and after pissing for an age and having a quick slurp of water, he leaned on the sink and peered at himself in the mirror. Crap, his eyes were like pissholes in the snow, and when he tipped his head to get a better angle, his neck looked like he'd been on the losing end of a fight with a vacuum cleaner. 

He growled slightly under his breath and dipped to splash water over his face again. As if he didn't have enough problems with people staring at his tattoos. Byakuya was so going to pay for that when he got back from wherever he'd buggered off to. 

The sentō probably. And he'd better bring tea back with him, because this hangover wasn't shifting for anything less than a decent shot of caffeine or three. Whatever they'd been doing, it must have included a doozy of a drinking spree, because Renji didn't remember a minute of it.

Back in the main room, he flopped backwards onto red silk sheets and closed his eyes, trying to recall the last thing he did remember. A fight, maybe? Him and Byakuya? No, him and Byakuya against… Mendori? That sounded right, and Renji had decked the guy, knocked him out cold, and then they'd… 

He scrubbed his hands over his face. Gods, why was his memory so damned hazy? 

They'd definitely got drunk and fucked, that much he was positive about. So, maybe they'd got a hotel room for the night after Akio chucked them out? Because he was pretty sure that decking her husband was a sacking offence.

Hang on. Husband? Renji's hands slid slowly down to his chin. Akio and Mendori were definitely married, he knew that, but he had absolutely no idea _how_ he knew that.

A shiver ran through him. This didn't feel like a normal drunken blackout. Had someone been screwing with his memory? Could Byakuya…? No, he couldn't believe that. Which meant it had to be someone else. But who? 

The Gotei? The Iba?

Crap, what if they'd missed him somehow and just grabbed Byakuya instead.

Renji started for the door before realising he wasn't dressed. Clothes first. He couldn't do anything naked.

Scouring the room, he spotted his stuff neatly folded on the chair next to the bed. He scrambled over and dragged on his jeans, only then noticing his phone on the bedside table, sitting atop a pink cardboard folder. There was no note, but he grabbed the phone as he sat down on the bed, switching it on and flicking through it because if Byakuya was just running errands, he might have tried to call.

The missed-call log was jam-packed, but all of the them were from someone called… Renji squinted at the name beside the number. Zommari? Who the hell was that, and why did it sound so familiar?

Not an Iba. The Quincy's lawyer? No, that was Goro or Goto or something like that. Still, Zommari was a name he'd heard before, he was sure. 

He was about to try calling back, when the damned phone went off in his hand. Renji jumped, fumbled the thing, almost dropped it and finally managed to press answer with his thumb. This time his, "Moshi moshi," came out clearer.

"Renji! Oh, thank christ, I thought you were dead, man." The guy - Zommari? - on the other end of the line sounded close to tears.

"Erm, no, still alive," Renji replied hesitantly. Did this person know he was a shinigami? And where the hell had he met this Zommari before? 

A handsome face, dark-skinned and topped by white blond hair, sprang into his mind. The taxi driver. Renji groaned, "You're _that_ Zommari."

"What Zommari did you think I was?" Zommari said. "And where the hell have you been?"

What? "Since when?"

"Since we dropped you off two days ago, dipstick."

Renji blinked. That sounded like an insult. And if the taxi driver knew him well enough to call him names down the phone, he probably knew more about what was going on than - Hang on. "Two days? What day is it now?"

"Monday. You've been missing since you went to meet up with someone called Nic at Purrfection."

Nic, from the Red Iris? Renji started to get a bad feeling. "Not Byakuya?" he asked, because he'd definitely been fucking someone, and he'd kind of hoped it'd been him.

A desperate kind of a laugh came from the other end of the phone and Zommari said, "Nope, definitely not Byakuya. He's been here all the time." Somewhere in the background, a door slammed. "Look, I'm coming to get you. Where are you?"

It shouldn't be such a relief to have someone he hardly knew riding to the rescue, but it really really was. "In a hotel room above Purrfection." 

"Sneaky-" Someone else spoke in the background. For a moment, Zommari's voice went muffled and Renji heard him speaking to someone, then he came through loud and clear again. "Okay. Crap. New plan. You got enough for the train?"

Renji quickly checked his pockets. His wallet was still there and so was the cash. Which was a relief. "Yeah?"

"Then I'll pick you up at Karakura station. An hour, hour and a half tops," Zommari replied. "And for fuck's sake, don't wander off with anyone else." Then he hung up.

Renji lowered the phone and stared at it for a moment. Two days. He was missing two whole days. He couldn't have slept that whole time, so what had he been doing. Or more to the point, who. 

Not Byakuya, that was for certain. Nic then? The guy was okay, Renji guessed, but not really his type. 

Tucking the phone in his pocket, Renji reached for his shirt and managed to snag the corner of the pink folder on the bedside. The contents spewed out onto the bed and from there to the floor. Renji stared at them in utter open-mouthed shock. They were photographs. At least twenty of them. Colour, lurid, intimate, and definitely of him. Having sex with someone - he picked a handful up - several someones. Guys, women, but none of them were recognisable. Whoever had taken the photos had made sure their faces were out of shot whereas Renji's… 

Frantically he flipped through them. In every single image his face was there. Being fed a cock, his tongue out like he couldn't wait for more. Bracketed by slender thighs as he feasted on pussy, some guy fucking him from behind. Mouth on one woman's tit as he gripped the hips of another who was riding him. 

He scooped more pictures off the floor and flicked through them with a growing sense of disbelief. It was him, definitely indisputably him, in this room, this very bed, he recognised the red sheets, but who were the others? And why couldn't he remember?! 

Getting to the end of the photos, Renji let them all fall from his fingers and cradled his head in his hands. He felt like shit, and felt stupid for feeling like shit. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd had sex with multiple partners, or with people he didn't know, but always before he'd remembered doing it. This… this was horrible, a big blank space in his head and the only things he knew were what he could glean from the pictures. Like, one of the women had a tattoo of a hummingbird on her hip, and one of the others had short hair. That told him nothing. They could be anyone, but if he ever ran into them again, they'd know who he was, and Renji hated that, that feeling of vulnerability, of always being at a disadvantage. It made him feel… He scuffed a bare foot through the pictures. It made him feel like shit.

His foot found the file, hidden under all the photographs. Renji frowned at it. Attached to the inside of the front cover was one more picture and what looked like a note. He reached down and picked them up. The photo was of him again, grinning at the camera, a strap round his arm as a syringe plunged into the vein in his elbow. 

Drugs. Was that why he couldn't remember anything?

He rubbed at his arm, like maybe he'd be able to feel something and, heart sinking, squinted at the scrawled handwriting.

 _Renji_ it said, spelled out in katakana. _Enjoy the pictures. I had a blast taking them all. Don't worry though, that's just a sample. I have plenty of others, in case you're thinking about not upholding your part of the bargain. As we agreed, the goods will be at the club on Tuesday night from about eight, and you'd better be there too. If you don't turn up, the rest of the photos will be sent straight to the international press. I'm sure your boss will be overjoyed when his department's reputation gets flushed along with his career._

It was signed, _Yours, an enthusiastic amateur photographer._ And next to that was a flower. 

Renji sat, reading and rereading the note. What goods? What bargain? What boss? He frowned. Was that photo supposed to be a clue of some kind? Did they mean drugs? And if they did, why? Renji had no use for drugs, and no money to buy any. 

On the other hand, Renji was now pretty sure that Hanna was the one behind this… whatever it was. He knew from the evening he'd spent upstairs being her footstool that she was up to her neck in drugs and this was absolutely the kind of thing she'd pull. Plus, she'd kind of signed it, with the flower and all.

But that still didn't answer why she'd done this. Or what this deal was he was supposed to have made. 

The phone rang, the hotel one. Renji jumped but managed to answer it. The same woman from before said, "I'm sorry, sir, but if you don't check out immediately, there will be another day to pay on the room."

"Right, yeah. I'll be straight down," Renji replied, pulling on his shirt as he hung up. He flinched as the cloth scraped across his back. Scratches on the scars, he'd seen them in the photos, and that more than anything made all this seem terrifyingly real.

Grabbing his shoes, he lunged for the door, almost colliding with a woman in the hallway pushing a trolley. The cleaner, who was going to clean the room and would see the pictures that Renji had left all over the floor. Feeling sick at the very idea, Renji muttered, "Sorry, forgot something," and slammed the door in her face. 

It took only a second to shove all the pictures back into the folder, which he tucked inside his shirt so there was no chance of them getting lost. After a last check under the bed, he could finally leave, and honestly, he couldn't get away fast enough, because someone had rented Hanna and Nic this room, so someone here had to have known at least part of what was going on. And that… that made Renji feel like he had the biggest target ever painted right in the middle of his back.


	22. Misfits Mambo

The train journey was a small slice of hell. Renji squashed himself into a corner and tried not to make eye contact, just in case one of the other passengers were the ones who…

It was dumb. He was being stupid. Even if they were those people, the photos proved everyone had had a good time, so where was the hurt?

If he could only remember.

Finally, the train pulled into Karakura station and Renji bolted for exit, navigating the ticket wicket in double quick time. Outside was a small blue car with a familiar looking driver. Renji dashed across the road and folded himself into the back seat, expecting the front to be taken up by Byakuya. It wasn't. It was empty. Unlike the back, which had a little kid sitting in it, staring at Renji like he had two heads, both of them monsters.

"Erm, hi," Renji said, as Zommari put the car into gear and pulled away.

"Are you Renji?" the kid demanded, arms folded across his chest and bottom lip stuck out. "Because if you are, I hate you! I had to miss school and the American lady is coming today to teach us English and I have to learn my English good for when we go to Australia so I can talk properly to baachan! "

"That's enough, Kaoru," Zommari snapped. "Renji's a guest. Be polite." He caught Renji's eye in the mirror. "Sorry about this. The neighbour was busy and obviously I couldn't leave him alone, under the circumstances." His grimace was probably supposed to convey some kind of secret meaning that Renji hadn't a clue about. 

Since asking for details of these 'circumstances' in front of the kid was probably a non-starter, Renji said instead, "Where's Byakuya?"

In the mirror, Zommari's gaze flicked to the kid. "He's ah… indisposed," he said.

Another taboo subject. Damn. 

"Touchan," the kid - Kaoru - said, "What does indisposed mean?"

"It means none of your business," Zommari replied tiredly. "Now sit quiet, please, the traffic's busy."

The pout returned, so did the folded arms. The kid slumped back in his seat, glared daggers at the back of his dad's head, and muttered, "You can't tell me what to do. You're not my real dad, just some stupid gaijin."

Zommari must have heard, but he didn't respond. Renji was impressed. That foreigner comment was said the same way that people in Seireitei said gaki. Then again, this kid probably really was only about seven, whereas most of the folks who were rude to Renji were at least ten times that age even if they didn't look it, and thus should know better.

Taking his cue from Zommari, Renji ignored the kid too and said, "Where are we going?"

Zommari glanced in the mirror again, his gaze briefly straying to Kaoru, and yeah okay maybe he wasn't as immune as Renji thought because there was definitely some hurt there. "Our place. I know it's not ideal but I couldn't think of anywhere else."

What the hell had happened that the man didn't feel safe in his own home? Had Soul Society really caught up with them? Was that where Byakuya was, fighting them off or leading them way? 

Had he been arrested already?

A thousand possibilities, all of them worse than the last, spawned in Renji's mind. He was so caught up in them that he almost yelped when a small hand grabbed his sleeve.

"Do you wanna see my baachan?" Kaoru asked, staring up at him with guileless brown eyes.

"Erm…" Renji blinked down at him, trying to get his head back in the human game. "I guess?"

A wide grin split the kid's face. He grabbed a book from beside him and hauled it up onto his lap. It was a big book similar to the ones Arisawa-sensei had had on his shelves, so Renji wasn't surprised when Kaoru opened it and there were photographs inside. 

For a second, just seeing them made Renji freeze, part of him expecting to see himself in the images like he had in those others, the ones now safely tucked inside his shirt. But that was stupid. If nothing else, he could be absolutely certain that Zommari hadn't been one of the men he'd been with over the last two days. His skin tone was all wrong. 

So, he had nothing to worry about, right? Right.

"Nice pictures," he said, shoving all the shit in his head to one side and concentrating on the kid. "You want to tell me who they are?"

The vast majority of the photos on the first page were of a woman, beautiful and tanned, with yellow white hair like Zommari's, though hers was shoulder length. In most of them, she was wearing some kind of bodysuit that covered her from neck to knees and zipped up the front. Perhaps some kind of swimming costume, Renji decided since there was water behind her in most of the shots. In some of them, she was alone. In others there were other women with her, all of them with their arms around each other, smiling and laughing.

"That's my Harri-baachan," Kaoru told him, jabbing at the page. "She's a shark-whisperer and we're gonna go to Australia to see her this summer, and she's gonna take me swimming on Bondai beach and teach me to surf!"

"Wow," Renji replied with a suitable amount of awe in his voice, since the kid's tone seemed to demand it. Now would probably be a bad time to ask what surfing or shark-whispering were.

Kaoru leaned closer and said in a quiet voice that was equal amounts excitement and fear, "She says, if I'm good, I can swim with the sharks too!"

That comment Zommari didn't ignore. "I told you, no sharks."

"But baachan said-" Kaoru began.

"I don't care what baachan said. You're too young."

"But-but!" Kaoru was flipping through the book so quickly that the pages creaked and rattled. He was obviously looking for something specific. Finally locating it, he slapped the book flat and smacked a hand down on one photograph, declaring, "You were the same age as me when you swam with sharks!"

The picture was of the same woman, though quite a bit younger looking, and a boy with bright white curls to his shoulders and the biggest smile Renji had ever seen. They were both dressed in bodysuits and they seemed to be standing on a boat. Or at least, it looked like one to Renji's uneducated eye. There was a lot of ropes and railings and deep azure blue water behind them.

"I don't care how old I was," Zommari was saying. "Mom always took stupid risks. That doesn't mean we have to do the same with you."

"Baachan's not stupid!" Kaoru shouted, slamming the book shut and shoving it off his lap. "You're stupid. I hate you. I want my kaachan. Where's my kaachan!" The yell turned to a sob and the next thing Renji knew, he had an lap-full of bawling child. His arms went round Kaoru automatically, but that was as far as his expertise went, so he was glad when Zommari cut across two lanes of traffic and screeched to a halt. 

When he opened the back door, Kaoru abandoned Renji and threw himself at his dad, who dipped his head into the kid's neck and held him close, cradling the back of his head with one huge hand. "It's okay," he crooned. "Kaachan will be home soon. I promise."

Feeling like a bit of a spare wheel, Renji rescued the photo album off the floor. Being dropped hadn't done it any favours. The clear film that kept the pictures in place had torn back on the page the kid had been looking at and several of the photographs were hanging loose. Renji carefully eased them free and, since Zommari was now wandering up and down outside the car with Kaoru in his arms, took the opportunity to have a closer look as he stuck them back in. 

For one thing, there was writing on the back of some of them. Renji picked up the one of the woman and child that he'd seen before and examined the back. The writing was in English, but he'd come across enough of it recently to take a stab at sounding it out. _Ti-a_ was the first word. A name? It sounded like it could be, though Kaoru had called his granny Harri-baachan. The other word was _E-r-ne-s-to_ , which Renji guessed was maybe the kid. Was Ernesto Zommari's given name? Renji hadn't given it a second's thought, but it would make sense that it was. Zommari was what the other taxi drivers had called him and they hadn't seemed like close friends.

There was a date written on it too: 1981. Over twenty years ago. Presumably when the photo was taken.

Renji was just repositioning the photos and smoothing the clear film back down over them when the car door pushed open and Zommari ducked down, slowly easing Kaoru onto the backseat. He'd obviously cried himself to sleep, his face was all tear-stained and covered in snot and, as his dad's arms withdrew, he whimpered slightly. A soothing caress from Zommari quickly settled him again and both Renji and Zommari sighed with relief when didn't stir again.

"He's missing his mom really badly," Zommari said in a low voice. "I told him that she's away on business, but he doesn't understand why she didn't tell him, or at least say goodbye before she went." His expression cracked, chin crumpling. "How'm I supposed to tell him that she's been kidnapped by the yakuza?"

Oh shit. The goods mentioned in the note. That had been about Zommari's wife?

Renji sat in shocked silence as Zommari dashed unshed tears from his eyes and gave Renji a watery grin. "But I won't have to now, because you've found her, right? That guy, Nic, told you where she was."

Talk about impossible situations. How the hell was Renji supposed to tell this guy that he couldn't remember the meeting. Hell, he hadn't even known that there'd been one until Zommari had told him.

Gaze flicking to the sleeping Kaoru, Renji opened his mouth to confess, only to be over-ridden by Zommari saying, "You're right. It'll wait till we get home. We're almost there anyway."

It only took them another five minutes to reach Zommari's house. It was one in a block of two storey dwellings that butted onto a play-park. Each house was narrow, with only a single window beside the front door, but there was a larger window above with a balcony outside that had several pots of flowers on it. Friendly, Renji thought. Homey.

After unlocking the front door, Zommari carefully lifted Kaoru out of the back of the car and led the way inside. A staircase greeted them almost as soon as they'd shed their shoes and Zommari headed up them. Renji followed, not knowing what else to do. When they reached the small landing, Zommari nodded his head in the direction of a closed door and said, "He's in there. Let me put Kaoru to bed, and I'll come and explain."

'He' had to be Byakuya. And he needed an explanation?

Dry-mouthed, Renji pushed open the door. Byakuya lay on the bed, pale and still, his eyes closed. Only the minute rise and fall of his chest told Renji he was still alive. For the longest second Renji couldn't move, frozen in place by… Fear? Apprehension? Call it what you will, it made his heart pound and his hands shake and-

Two strides took him to the bedside and he knelt beside it, reaching for Byakuya's hand with both of his own and cradling it, bringing it to his lips. It was cool, too cool. There was something horribly wrong. The lack of life reminded him of when he first put Byakuya into a gigai, back then he'd been dying thanks to a reiatsu bleed. Now…

"Is he still alive?" came Zommari's voice from the doorway. 

Renji didn't look back. No power on earth could have dragged his gaze away from Byakuya's beautiful still face. But he did manage to nod.

Behind him, Zommari made a huge sound of relief. "Thank god for that. I mean, I know he's still breathing, but I wasn't sure, with the body being fake and everything."

That possibility hadn't even occurred to Renji. "What happened?" he demanded as Zommari shuffled into view beside him.

"He tried to get out of his gigai. When he came out, he looked kind of strange, real skinny, almost like a skeleton, and then he frizted, like a TV going off station and went see through, and then fell back into the gigai thing."

That sounded… like nothing Renji had ever heard of before.

"I hung around for ages in the hopes he'd wake up, and when he didn't, I hauled him back here. He's been like this ever since."

Renji frowned as a detail from Zommari's description niggled at him. He patted his pockets, expecting to find the glove because if Byakuya had tried some other method to get out of his gigai, it might explain what had happened. Maybe. But the glove wasn't there. Renji patted again, a bit frantically, because that was the only way of getting out of these gigai and no way was Renji spending the rest of his life stuck in this one.

"If you're looking for the glove thing, he's still wearing it." Zommari pointed to Byakuya's other hand. "I was scared to take it off."

Which meant, if it had malfunctioned, it could be killing him even as they stood here chatting. Renji lunged across the bed and grabbed Byakuya's hand. The glove felt inert under his enquiring fingers, which was no help at all. Even if there was some kind of reiatsu thing going on, Renji wouldn't be able to sense it from inside his gigai. But there was one thing he could check for.

Holding Byakuya's gloved hand in his own, he peeled the top of the glove down slightly, examining the skin beneath to see if there was any sign of blisters. Nothing. There wasn't a mark on it. So if there was a problem, it probably wasn't of the Quincy eating your skin off variety. Which was one thing, at least.

But how had he ended up with the glove. Was there an answer there as to what was going on?

"Erm… anything I can do help?" Zommari asked a bit tentatively.

"How did he get a hold of the glove? It was in my jeans." A safeguard in case he needed to get out of the gigai in a hurry. Like if someone tried to drug him into being a freaking sex-slave for the weekend.

The look Renji shot at Zommari along with the question must have shown something of the emotions boiling up inside him because the guy took a step back, hands held up, and said, "Woah. I didn't take the damn thing. We found it at the club. It was being handed in to lost property."

It must have fallen out of his pocket. Or been taken out on purpose and dumped. Did the people who'd grabbed him even know he was a shinigami?

"Seriously, is there anything I can do, because I've been sat here watching him all weekend and frankly it's creeping me out."

Renji did his best to control his roiling emotions and said, "I'm trying to see if the glove's malfunctioned, but the gigai I'm wearing blocks my ability to sense reiatsu. That's the power we use," he clarified when Zommari began frowning. "The only way to get out of the gigai is with the glove, but if it's broken and I take it off Byakuya's hand, it could kill him."

"Or you, if you tried to use it too," Zommari put in.

That hadn't occurred to Renji either. "Right, yeah. But, you could see us when we're out of our gigai, which means you should be able to sense if there's any reiatsu leaking out of the glove."

A look of comprehension spread across Zommari's face and he took a step forward. "Right, okay. Tell me what I should be looking for." 

Together they bent over Byakuya's hand. "Probably some kind of glowing white light," Renji said, peeling the glove back again. Though would a non-shinigami see reiatsu that way? He offered another suggestion. "Or maybe just a disturbance in the air, like a heat haze." 

Zommari was shaking his head. "There's nothing like either of those," he said. "It doesn't even feel whooshy, and both you guys felt that way the first time I met you."

A whooshy feel. That was a first. Renji huffed, gritted his teeth, and whipped the glove from Byakuya's hand. As potentially dangerous moves went, it was remarkably anti-climatic. Byakuya's hand flopped at the wrist, as unmoving as it had been before, and the glove stayed obstinately non-explodey or fiery. 

Zommari and Renji exchanged a look. Zommari shrugged as if to say, it's your call, so Renji quickly slid the glove onto his own hand. Apart from feeling a bit clammy - Byakuya's hands must have been sweating at some point - it seemed to be exactly the same as it always was. There was even a charge, though that didn't tell him much since the thing just recharged itself from the world around it.

Taking a deep breath, he put the glove to his chest and tapped. The reiatsu charge in the glove pulsed, and the gigai dropped like a stone. Or maybe more like a dead body, going by Zommari's horrified expression as he stared down at it. He looked back up at Renji and his face cleared. "I'm guessing that's what's supposed to happen?"

Before Renji could answer, a movement on the bed attracted both their attentions. Byakuya was shifting, his head turning towards Renji in an odd fluid movement. His eyes fluttered open and for a second something else looked out, something mindless and predatory that made the hairs on Renji's neck stand upright in terror. Renji lunged for his gigai and yanked it back on and, by the time he looked round again, the monster was gone like it had never been there at all and Byakuya was Byakuya again, grey eyes full of familiar volcanic heat. 

"Renji."

It was sighed more than spoken. Renji was at Byakuya's side in an instant, reaching out for him, running a thumb gently across his cheek. "Yeah, it's me. Are you okay? What happened?" But it was too late. Byakuya was gone again, though not back into a coma because eyes shifted behind blue-traced lids and a passing tongue left lips damp in its wake. Not sleep either because a quick shake of Byakuya's shoulder got Renji no reaction at all. Jinzen then, probably, which suggested all this still to do with Senbonzakura being missing.

Renji sat back on his heels and huffed a tired sigh. He probably ought to be feeling something about now, but somehow he wasn't. Except numb, maybe. It had definitely been that kind of day. 

Still, long years had taught him how to deal with those. Practical things first. "That was definitely me he was responding to, yeah?" he said, glancing up at Zommari.

"I reckon so," Zommari replied. He gestured at Byakuya. "He's not moved like that at all for the whole time he's been here."

"And that's two days."

Zommari pulled a face, rocking his hand. "Give or take. We dropped you off Friday evening, today's Monday, so more like three, I guess?"

Monday. Monday. Why did that ring a bell? "Shit!" Renji sprang upright. "Lawyer!" He looked around frantically, patting his shirt which didn't have the pockets he needed. The letter had been in his inside jacket pocket, but where was his jacket? He needed the letter. They needed that apartment! Especially now. Akio had to have fired them, surely.

"If you're looking for your stuff, it's over there," Zommari said, pointing to a small pile of bags in the corner by the window. 

Renji dug into them, pulling out his jacket and checking the time he'd noted down on the letter. Three pm. It was still before midday right now and the office was only in Akiruno. He had plenty of time.

Only then did it occur to him that all their stuff was there, including the rice cooker he'd bought to help supplement their bentō. Which answered one question. "I'm guessing she did fire us then," he said.

"Big time," Zommari replied with a dry laugh. "The full, 'do not darken my doors again'." He paused, brow crinkling in confusion. "But you were there, you know what happened."

Renji barked a laugh of his own and slumped back to sit against the wall. "About that," he said, scrubbing a hand over his head. "The thing is, I can't remember a thing after I punched Mendori out cold on Friday."

"F-Friday?" Zommari took a wobbly step and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "Why- How?"

Renji shrugged. "I've got no idea. It's just gone. This supposed meeting, the agreement I made. All of it."

"What agreement?"

Damn, if he admitted to the note, he'd have to admit to knowing there'd been other people involved. Still, he didn't have to share all the details. "I found a note when I woke up this morning. It says that I made some kind of deal with whoever it was that wrote it and that the goods will be at the club tomorrow night until about eight." The rest of the note was no one's business but this own.

He lifted his gaze to meet Zommari's. "I'm guessing the goods are your wife."

Zommari nodded. He looked numb. For a long moment silence reigned, then Zommari visibly shook himself and said, "So, we're going to rescue her, yeah? Tomorrow."

Since that was probably a commitment he'd already made, Renji nodded. In all honesty, even if he hadn't, he'd still be helping. Zommari had been nothing but a good guy every time they'd run into each other. It was the least they owed him. "But I'm gonna need you to bring me up to speed first. Everything you know. Anything you can remember. I've got to try and fill in some blanks."

It took Zommari about half an hour to bring him up to date, though of course he knew nothing about the time Renji had been missing. That was okay. Apart from the meeting, Renji knew exactly what he'd been doing. After Zommari was finished, he went to check on Kaoru and then downstairs to make tea. Renji stayed in the bedroom, sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed, head close to Byakuya's hand, and listened to him breathe while he sorted through the information in his mind.

The note had spoken of a deal, one that Renji had no memory of making. Not knowing the details, he couldn't even pretend to abide by it, though the threat they had over him if he didn't was empty. He had no boss to show the pictures to, so the worst that would happen was that they'd be sent to the press. Without a story to connect them to, they'd probably not even be published, and even if they were, apart from being as embarrassing as hell, the biggest danger lay in them being seen by someone in Seireitei, a chance so minuscule that Renji was prepared to take the risk. 

So worrying about the deal was pointless. What he needed to focus on was rescuing Unagiya-san and the others, and keeping everyone safe afterwards. According to Zommari, she'd been grabbed from this house, which meant this place wasn't safe for any of them. 

Kissing goodbye to the nice new apartment he and Byakuya and been promised, Renji heaved a sigh. They could go back to the hospital. Sure, it was no fun living in the safe-room, but they could do it. Zommari and his family couldn't. But long term, that wouldn't be enough.

The door opened. Renji looked up to see Zommari carrying a tea tray stacked with bits and pieces. "I wasn't sure how you liked it," he said, putting the tray down on the chest at the end of the bed. 

"That woman in the photographs, she's your mother, right?" Renji asked.

Zommari glanced up, frowning. "Yeah. Why?"

"Because even if we rescue your wife, you're not going to be safe in Japan."

With a heavy sigh. Zommari sank down on the bed just above Renji. "I guessed as much. We're gonna have to go and live in Australia." He grimaced. "Ikumi's gonna hate it."

"On the other hand, Kaoru will love you forever."

A tired grin curved Zommari's lips and he propped his chin on his hand. "That's true. He's loves his Harri-baachan. And she adores him, right on back."

Renji grinned too. So much of his life had been about stepping back and not getting involved. It felt really good finally being able to help.

Briefly he outlined his side of things, leaving out all reference to the photographs. After a token protest, Zommari agreed to move himself and Kaoru into the apartment as soon as Renji got the keys, on the condition that he and Byakuya moved in with them. "It's only fair," he said. "And we can muddle through. Even if the place is small."

*

Dressed in his suit and tie, Renji staggered out of the lawyer's office four hours later with keys in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. Ishida Ryūken's name apparently opened doors. Many, large, important doors. Not only did they have a new apartment, they had access to bank accounts whose contents made Renji's breath catch and, perhaps most importantly, everything they needed to create new identities.

As the lawyer, Goto Harin, had explained, Ishida-san had always worried that one day someone would target them, so he'd made sure that all his assets could be easily liquidated and transferred to these alternate identities. The letter he had sent to her instructed her to make use of all his contingency plans to establish Renji and Byakuya in a new life. 

Exchanging bows as they'd said goodbye, Renji hadn't known whether to laugh or cry. Luck like this didn't happen to him. This was Byakuya's kind of thing. He was the one who'd been born to privilege, who knew how to get lawyers to dance to his tune. Renji was just some gaki from Rukongai who kept his head down, worked hard and did his damnedest not to rock the boat.

And yet, here he was, reaping the rewards of having rocked the boat so hard that the damned thing tipped over and landed him headfirst in the shit. And this time, it was him who'd come up smelling of roses. 

He grinned, jangling the keys in his hand, and trotted across the road to where Zommari waited for him. The van he'd borrowed from a neighbour was stuffed with gear since, if they'd not gotten the keys today, they'd been planning to head for a hotel. Now, that wouldn't be necessary. As he climbed in the passenger side, Kaoru glanced up from his video game, pouted and ducked his head again, still not sure what to make of this new turn of events. Further in the back, Byakuya was tucked in amongst the futon. He'd disturbed slightly as Renji carried him down to the van, but had hardly moved since. Jinzen, Renji told himself. Natural and expected if Senbonzakura was coming back. There was no need to worry.

*

The apartment was on the ground floor of what looked, from the outside, to be a vast old house. The three storey white painted building was set in its own wooded grounds with a wide gravel driveway and Zommari had taken one look and whistled through his teeth. "Have you any idea how much these places are worth?"

Renji, who'd seen the balances on the bank accounts, could guess. "A lot?" he suggested.

"And then some," Zommari replied. Turning back to the van, he continued, "You go unlock. I'll keep an eye on things out here." By things, he meant Byakuya. Renji was grateful yet again that he wasn't having to do this alone. 

"I want to go with him, touchan," Kaoru protested from the front seat where he'd crawled the moment his dad got out.

Zommari gave Renji an enquiring look. He shrugged. "I don't mind, but he'd better behave himself."

"I will! I will!" Kaoru insisted, opening the van door so fast that he almost followed it to pitch face first into the gravel. Zommari caught him and swung him up into his arms. 

Kaoru, of course, immediately struggled to be put down, but Zommari held him till he quieted. "Now, listen to me. This is someone else's home. We're just borrowing it, okay? So you need to be careful. No running around in case you break things."

"I won't. I promise," Kaoru replied, kicking as he was lowered to the ground, and scampering towards Renji the moment he was released. 

Since it seemed like the best way of making sure the kid didn't run off, Renji held out his hand. For a moment it looked like Kaoru might refuse, then he glanced back at his dad. Zommari raised an eyebrow, Kaoru pouted and slid his hand into Renji's, and together they made their way inside.

The first floor apartment wasn't huge, but it was a bigger than the others Renji had been in since coming to the living world, and that included Mizuiro's. It was also a mess. Goto had warned him that might be the case. "The police," she'd said, as if that explained everything. Now Renji thought he understood. There was stuff strewn all over the place; papers, books, clothing, personal effects; and the furniture had been systematically dismantled. The bedrooms weren't too bad, if you discounted the eviscerated mattresses and torn up carpets, but the living room was trashed, the sofa's stuffing all ripped out and electronics disassembled. Even the walls had holes in them.

Kaoru's grip on Renji's hand tightened and the kid said, in a quiet scared voice, "Have these people disappeared too?" Which just went to prove that no matter how much you tried to hide things from a kid, they found out somehow. 

Not prepared to further scare an already terrified child, Renji shook his head. "No. The people who used to live here are fine. They just had to move out quickly, so they left some of their stuff behind."

Visibly relaxing, Kaoru offered Renji a wobbly smile. "Then can I have that?" he asked, and it didn't take a genius to work out he'd seen the big TV in the corner, about the only thing that seemed to have escaped unscathed.

"I don't know about have, but you can definitely use it," Renji replied. The kid's grin widened and firmed. "But first, we've gotta tidy up some. You think you can help with that?"

"Of course I can!" Kaoru protested, letting go of Renji's hand and puffing up his chest as though Renji had mortally offended him. "I always help mom with the chores. She says it's important for boys not to grow up to be useless."

"Your mom's a bright woman," Renji said, tousling the kid's hair. He got brushed off immediately by an indignant hand, which made him grin broadly. "Right, let's go give your dad a hand, shall we?"

Later that night in a tidied living-room, with Kaoru spread across his futon like a starfish and Byakuya still deeply immersed in jinzen on another, Zommari and Renji sat across from each other at the small kotatsu they'd bought online, taking it in turns to pour the sake, as they thrashed out some kind of a plan for the following evening.

"I just hate the idea of you not having back-up," Zommari said, turning his sake bowl slowly between his fingers. "The last time you went off alone, you vanished for two days."

Renji didn't need reminding. He'd spent a good hour scrubbing down and soaking this evening and still felt phantom hands on him. "This time I'm not gonna eat or drink anything," he replied, picking up the bottle and giving it a swish. There was enough left for a couple of rounds yet. He did the honours. "It's gonna be a quick in and out, bashing some heads on the way." Personally he'd prefer removing Kutsuzawa, both his daughters and all his henchman from the scene permanently, but with the family being in cahoots with the Iba, the risk of them identifying Renji and Byakuya when they got to the other side were too high. 

Because he'd have to konso them. No way could he leave them to hollowfy. That'd make him no better than those bastards in Matsuyama who turned that kid. No, it was better just to knock them all out, then call the police. Let them sort it out.

Though that was always presupposing the Iba weren't already there. That possibility was one Renji wasn't dwelling on. Sure, he was a well-trained shinigami and they were just common thugs, but there was still the remains of the seal to deal with and he'd heard rumours about the Iba's fighting power. The guys Tetsuzaemon had brought with him last time were certainly no slouches.

Not that they'd kill him, he didn't think. He was probably worth more to them alive, so kidnap would be the thing. Followed by ransom back to the Gotei probably. And that was not gonna happen, because the first thing they'd wanna know about was Byakuya. So, if Renji was taken… Well, put it this way, he wouldn't survive long enough for the 2nd to question him. Both he and Zabimaru were agreed on that.

"I still don't like it," Zommari said morosely, taking a sip of his drink.

"You don't have to. You just have to sit here with your kid and make sure your wife has got a family to come home to."

Zommari scowled. "Makes me sound like the little woman, waiting at home."

"There are worse things to be," Renji shrugged and, since Zommari wasn't offering, sloshed another shot into his own bowl. "I bet Ikumi would tell you the same thing."

Zommari barked a laugh and raised his drink. "No doubt about it, mate. No doubt at all."

*

Byakuya woke from some hideous dream to cold sweat all over his body and bile rising in the back of his throat. Shivering uncontrollably, he stumbled up from the bed, dashed for the door and stopped, staring confusedly into the gloom. This was not the top floor of the Red Iris. He had no idea where he was, nor where the toilet facilities might be located.

His stomach churned and, in desperation, he plunged left, a hand pressed to his mouth, trying doors as he went. The third one he opened revealed a toilet, and only just in time. A violent surge of sickness seized him and he fell to his knees in front of the bowl, clutching at it with both hands as his body heaved, forcibly trying to expel whatever poison it had ingested. Again and again bile rose, yet nothing more than that was evicted. Still, his stomach continued to try and, all the while, the chills had him, twisting his legs into cramps and sending sweat coursing down his back, causing the shirt he wore to cling coldly to his spine. 

Could it have been bad food? The only things he remembered eating were the onigiri Zommari had purchased and they had tasted fresh, the rice fragrant and not the slightest bit sour, so Byakuya doubted they could be to blame. Nor would such a thing give him the headache, which, now the immediate sickness was easing, he could feel raging in his temples like the worst possible hangover. 

In fact, taken together, his symptoms could be that of overindulgence, except the last thing he remembered… The last thing he remembered…

Senbonzakura.

A sob wracked Byakuya's body as, at the same moment, the sickness returned. He choked, eyes streaming, whether from tears or vomiting he neither knew nor cared. He simply wanted it to end, he wanted to die. What was the point in living when half his soul had been torn away from him, not once but twice. The hole inside him ached, a gaping void of want, and his nightmare came back to him in a rush of memory and puking, of Renji's screams as Byakuya tore him apart, hands bloody with flesh and guts as he dug, deeper and ever deeper, searching for the way back to the missing half of his soul.

"You okay?"

Renji's voice at the door made Byakuya cry out in shocked surprise and he couldn't prevent himself from scrambling into the corner in a vain attempt to get away. Terror seized him. What if his dream became real, what if Renji came close and Byakuya lost control and-

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's only me," Renji was crooning as though he was speaking to a frightened child or animal, and he was coming closer, crouching down, hands out. 

Byakuya shook his head, teeth chattering. "Go away. P-please, leave me alone."

"I don't think so," Renji replied. "Not when you're sick like this."

"N-not sick." Shivers rattled through him and behind Renji, up above the door, shadows began to gather and slither. Like a monster's claws. Byakuya's claws, digging deep. He clenched his fists, positive the prick in his palms must be those same claws thrusting through the gigai as every atom of his body craved and ached and hungered. "Leave me alone!" he yelled, putting every scrap of energy he had left into the shout.

Renji backed off, a surprised expression emblazoned across his face and collided with Zommari who'd appeared in the doorway behind him. 

"What's going on?" Zommari demanded irritably, squinting between the two of them. "Keep this racket up and you're gonna wake Kaoru."

"Byakuya's sick, but he won't let me help him," Renji explained.

"N-not sick," Byakuya repeated. He was going to puke again, and he really didn't want to have an audience when it happened. Too late. He lurched forwards retching, heaving up nothing except yellow bile and misery.

Distantly he heard Zommari say, "Nothing's coming up. How long's he been going at it?"

"No idea, I only just woke up. But the bed was still warm."

There was a shuffling behind him and when the next round of heaves stopped, a hand gently brushed the hair from his face and pressed against his forehead. Not Renji's hand because Byakuya would know that anywhere, so this one held no terrors for him. The human he would not harm, no matter how close Zommari came.

"He's not running a temperature, I reckon. You eaten something?"

The question seemed to be aimed at him. Byakuya shook his head, and regretted it immediately as his stomach lurched and the whole cycle started over. The next time it subsided, Zommari asked, "What about something you've taken? Pills or some kind of medicine?"

Of course. That was why this headache felt so familiar. And the shaking in his hands. And the need burning inside, undoubtedly eclipsed by Senbonzakura's loss, but present all the same. 

"What would he be taking pills for-?" Renji began.

Byakuya interrupted him with a choked, "Pocket. Jacket. Bottle."

"Go check," Zommari snapped, and Byakuya heard Renji stomp away. Once he was gone, Zommari eased down beside him in the small space. "Something you picked up at the club?" he asked.

Byakuya dipped his head very carefully.

"Any idea what they are?"

An equally careful shake.

"What do they do?"

Give him relief. Keep him safe. Help him to make something from his torn and bleeding soul. "Stop me sleeping," he croaked.

"Some kind of uppers then." Zommari seemed to talking to himself, so Byakuya didn't try to answer. He was too busy anyway, trying not to shiver too much, or breathe too much, or exist too much. He hurt. All of him. Inside and out.

"Have you taken any tonight?"

That one he had to answer. "No."

"How long have you been taking them?"

It was hard to be sure. The days bled into each other. "I think… two weeks."

"That's a pretty short time to get this hooked on speed, but I guess it's possible. Especially for a guy in a fake body."

Was that why he felt so terrible? Perhaps if he left the gigai-

Byakuya cut that thought off before it even began. The thing he'd become without the gigai was worse even than this. Mindless and ravenous it would destroy Renji in order to reclaim Senbonzakura, and that could not be borne. And even if, by some fluke it succeeded without killing everything he loved, then Aizen would surely trap them like he'd promised and use them for his own foul ends. 

No, better to stay in the gigai and ride out these mortal agonies.

"I found these." Renji's voice was accompanied by the rattle of a pill bottle. Byakuya clutched the toilet bowl. It was all he could do not to throw himself upon Renji and steal the bottle from him. But he must not. He must stay as far from Renji as he could.

"Give them here and go get a glass of water," said Zommari.

"You're gonna give him more of them, after they did this to him?" Renji sounded indignant. Byakuya wanted to cry.

"Yeah, sure I am. Most speed addicts are pretty high functioning so long as they get their fix and honestly, we haven't got time for him to be sick right now."

There was silence from Renji for a moment and then he said thoughtfully, "Like a field dressing. Patch him up now, fix him properly later."

"It's a good comparison. Though you might want to get him professional help when the time comes."

That seemed to put an end to that conversation. At least, Renji didn't speak again and footsteps moved away down the hall. The same gentle hand as before returned, peeled some of the sticky hair from Byakuya's face and tucked it behind his ear. "I'll give you some this time," Zommari said, "but you've gotta promise that you'll get help. Whatever the problem is, drugs aren't the answer to it."

Byakuya blinked into the toilet bowl, the quiet words getting through where any amount of shouting would probably have failed. "You speak from experience," he husked finally.

"Not me, but my old man was an addict most of his life. It's what killed him eventually, and I wouldn't want Renji to go through the same thing. He's a nice guy."

"Nicer than me," Byakuya choked, shameful tears welling up. How low had he come that he was kneeling on a toilet floor weeping in front of a human.

"You can't be all bad if Renji loves you," came the reply. 

Byakuya tried to reason a way out of that one and failed, since denying it would simply bring Renji down.

"See," Zommari said. "Now, give me your hand. You want one or two?"

Considering how he felt, three might be the better answer, but there were few enough of them left. "Two," he said, as Zommari unrolled his fingers. The pills dropped onto his palm and he slammed them back, swallowing hard. For a second, he thought they might come back up and he hung over the bowl, breathing slowly through his nose as waves of nausea came and went until they finally subsided completely. When he slumped back against the wall, Zommari pressed a glass of water into his hand.

"Probably best just to wash your mouth out to start with," he said. 

Byakuya stared at the glass. The surface of the water was a myriad of tiny waves from the tremble in his hands. But at least he could hold it. His head was clearing a little too. He raised it, squinting at the light. "Renji?" He must have been there, since he'd gone for the water, but there was no sign of him now.

"He's gone to make drinks for the rest of us. It's close enough to sun-up that we might as well get going." Zommari heaved himself to his feet, not easy for such a big man in such a small space, and held out a hand. "You want to come now, or you gonna stay here for a bit?"

Byakuya considered leaving the safety of this room and having to deal with Renji in close proximity, and demurred. "Stay here, if you don't mind."

Zommari's hand dropped, but his smile remained warm enough. "That's fine. Join us when you feel up to it. Or, you know, when someone else needs the loo."

Of course. Byakuya was hogging the only facilities with his selfishness. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to leave his sanctuary quite yet, so he dipped his chin. "I will. Thank you," he said.

*

The glass was empty and his stomach much settled by the time he emerged. Feeling unexpectedly apprehensive, Byakuya made his way down the hallway toward the sound of voices, roaring and loud music. He found Renji and Zommari sitting at a kotatsu, their heads bent together over some contraption, while a half-grown boy knelt nearby in front of a large television set which appeared to be showing some kind of battle between two monsters.

Byakuya hesitated in the doorway, watching the boy press buttons on a box in his lap. Going by his appearance, he had to be Unigaya-san's son, though not perhaps Zommari's. From a previous arrangement perhaps. 

"Hey, there you are," Renji said, looking up. He'd changed his clothes. The garish green shirt was gone, though its boldly patterned replacement was, if anything, worse. 

As the others all turned to look at him, Byakuya lowered his gaze. It was a strange feeling, this shame at being the centre of attention, when all his life he'd treated it as his right and due.

"Touchan, can I go use the toilet now?" the boy demanded, tossing the equipment aside and scrambling to his feet. The volume of his voice and his cavalier approach to his things suggested his maturity matched his physical appearance, which seemed to be the norm for humans. It was also clear that whatever the child's original parentage, Zommari now stood in loco parentis.

"Sure. Let me just go check," Zommari said. He began pushing to his feet and Byakuya realised that he planned to clear up any mess that Byakuya had left. 

Cheeks flushing with added humiliation, he said quickly, "I have cleaned." 

Zommari flashed him a look that was surprised but grateful. He grinned as he sat back down, saying, "There you go, Kaoru, Byakuya says it's fine. Toilet's all yours."

The child, Kaoru, paused beside Byakuya on his way out of the room and peered up at him. "You snore," he said.

"I do not," Byakuya denied automatically.

"Erm, actually," Renji began, only to break off with a laugh when Byakuya glared at him. "Your face. That is pure Kuchiki."

Byakuya's heart contracted. "Not any longer," he said, and turned to go. He should find somewhere to wash the glass. As he did so, Kaoru snagged his sleeve and dragged at it. Despite his previous behaviour, Byakuya indulged the child and leaned down enough to hear what he had to say. 

The words came out as a gabbled half-whisper. "Thank you for taking so long in the loo. I had to pee in the sink and it was awesome," and then the child was away, galloping down the hallway towards the toilet. Byakuya stared after him in bemusement. Human children were very strange, though it was all too easy to see someone much beloved in this particular boy's exuberant behaviour.

"Want me to take that?"

A hand closing around the glass alongside his own made Byakuya jump. He'd not heard Renji come up behind him. He shrugged Renji's touch away, needing to be further from temptation. Though the pills helped, as they always seemed to. Why, Byakuya had no idea, and yet he would have to find out. Zommari was right about that. This had gone on too long. Once Unagiya-san was safe, he would sit down with Renji and explain everything. Perhaps together they could work out what was going on.

"No, thank you," he said. "I'm quite capable of washing a glass. However, you could point me in the direction of the kitchen. I'm unfamiliar with the layout of this place." As he spoke, he kept his gaze averted, unsure of the reception he might get after Renji's reaction earlier to the pills he'd been taking.

If Renji found his attitude strange, he didn't mention it. With a small chuckle, he pointed to the door opposite, "Kitchen's right there and yeah, we're all unfamiliar. We only got here last night."

They must have come here straight from Renji's meeting. "Has Nic allowed us to stay here?" he asked. "Is he working with us against his superiors?"

Palm flat on the kitchen door, Renji stopped and looked back. "Yeah, no, hardly. This place belongs to Ichigo's uncle. He talked the guy into letting us use it. I found out Friday morning, but never got a chance to tell you before the whole thing with Mendori blew up in our faces."

"You knew yesterday and didn't tell me?" Byakuya tried to keep the hurt from his voice and failed.

"Not yesterday, Friday. You-" Renji huffed irritably. "You've been out of it for almost four days. After you tried to dump the gigai, you…" He huffed again and shoved the kitchen door open, entering the room. "Well, to be honest, I don't know what happened, but from Zommari's description, it sounded like you turned into some kind of ghost."

Byakuya swallowed heavily and followed him in. So, it was true then. He was becoming a monster, this gigai the only thing between him and whatever horror the future held. Unless he somehow found Senbonzakura again and filled that terrible vacancy in his soul.

At that thought, his whole being oriented towards Renji and he had to take a step back to keep enough distance between them. That was not the way. It couldn't be. He would kill himself rather than allow that nightmare to come to pass. Once was bad enough. Though in truth Renji seemed none the worse for Byakuya having used his body that way.

The memory of Renji naked on a bed, the centre of a knot of bodies kissing and caressing, came back to him. At the time, Byakuya had been too consumed by his hunt for power to really register there being other people in the bed, but now… Now he wasn't sure what to think. Though some kind of disquiet must have shown on his face because Renji asked, "Are you okay?" 

Byakuya blinked at him, noting the traces of purple bruises peeping out from under his shirt collar, honestly not sure how to answer. Renji was his own person. Byakuya had no right to tell him who he could sleep with or when. Still, it hurt to know that Renji had been indulging in such behaviour when he and Zommari had been outside, frantic with worry about him. The only reason Byakuya had tried to leave the gigai at all was because he feared for Renji's life.

With more than a touch of bite to his words, he asked, "Does Zommari know that you were having an orgy while we were waiting for you to return?"

The colour drained from Renji's face and he stumbled back a step. In that moment Byakuya realised he'd made a terrible mistake. 

"H-how do you know?" The words trembled quietly from Renji's lips. "Did- did you find the photos?"

"No, but I did." Zommari appeared in the doorway. In his hands he carried a pink folder and, upon seeing it, Renji's expression turned hunted.

"Where did you find that?" he demanded. "You got no right going through my stuff. I-"

"Kaoru was helping me tidy up. It was under the futon," Zommari said and he looked annoyed. Slapping the file down on the work-surface, he flipped the cover open. "I don't care what you get up to, but don't leave stuff like this around where a kid might find it." There were pictures inside, of Renji, doing some of the very things Byakuya had suggested. 

"I didn't- It wasn't- " Renji's hunted expression became desperate. It was one Byakuya knew well. Any moment now, he was going to bolt, and Byakuya still didn't understand why. The photos were certainly a step up in Renji's exhibition kink, but they were nothing to be ashamed of.

"Please, Renji," he said calmly, in the vain hopes of diffusing the situation. "No one is accusing you of anything. Who you choose to have sex with-"

"I didn't fucking choose!" Renji yelled. Yanking a piece of paper from his back pocket, he smacked it down on the workbench then pushed past them out of the room. A moment later, they heard the front door slam.

"What is it?" Zommari asked.

Confused and more than a little annoyed, Byakuya reached for the piece of paper. He unfolded it, read the note printed on it and blanched, stomach dropping as the full import of what he was reading hit him. He shoved the paper at Zommari and headed out of the room himself. 

The corridor outside the front door was empty, though the main doors at the end stood slightly ajar. 'That way', Byakuya thought, along with, 'he couldn't have got far'. But the gravel drive was similarly deserted, as were the well-manicured pathways that criss-crossed the surrounding gardens. Byakuya didn't dare go far, he had no idea where he was and it would be all too easy to get lost, especially as his focus was less than good these days, so he soon found himself returning to the apartment, alone and empty-handed. 

As he closed the front door behind him, Zommari peered out of the living-room. He still had the note in his hand. Seeing that Byakuya was alone, he grimaced. "I reckon we got that one wrong."

Byakuya didn't grace the comment with an answer. Instead he took himself off to find something to do with his hands that didn't involve throttling people, be they lovers who bolted before bridges could be mended or taxi drivers with a penchant for understatement. 

Finding something to do was the easy bit. The room he found was presumably a bedroom, going by the decor and the remains of a bed leaning against one wall. But it was full of things. Papers, clothing, toiletries, books, piled up in what could have been a desperate attempt to instill some kind of order.

Remembering the empty bookcase in the hallway, Byakuya decided to start there, since it was the easiest and most obvious task. It was also one that soothed his nerves, bringing back memories of hours spent in his uncle's library. That would be gone now. Boxed up and given to Ichigo to look after, like everything that had been important in Byakuya's life. 

That thought led to others and, as he re-shelved books, Byakuya let his mind wander where it willed. And where it willed was determinedly after Renji. He would have to apologise, wholeheartedly. The sentiments he'd expressed had been unworthy and highly insulting. Worse, under the circumstances, they'd accused Renji of something that was obviously untrue.

The sound of a phone ringing came from the other room some time later and was followed by Zommari appearing at the door, a serious expression on his face. For a second, Byakuya's heart notched up a pace in panic, and then he registered Zommari's words. "It was out of line, and I'm sorry. I can't say that enough."

He paused, obviously listening to whoever was on the other end of the line - Renji, it had to be Renji. Then he nodded and said, "Right-oh, mate. I'll talk to you later," before holding out the phone to Byakuya, who took it and, somewhat shakily, held it up to his ear.

"Renji?"

"Hey, sorry for walking out like that."

"No, don't apologise, it was entirely our fault. I'm so sorry I said those things. They were completely uncalled for."

Silence came from the other end of the line, then Renji said in a small voice, "If you'd not seen the pictures, how come you knew?"

How to explain that. "I think I… wandered, after I left the gigai," Byakuya tried. He really should tell all, but a telephone was hardly the place to do it. "Renji, we should talk. There are things-"

"I know. We will. Just… Let's get Unagiya-san rescued first, yeah?"

"Yes, absolutely. She must be our first priority."

"Good, right." Renji huffed, sounding relieved. "In that case, I'll see you later tonight, hopefully with her in tow. Like I told Zommari, I'm gonna stake out the club, make sure I don't get any nasty surprises of the Iba variety when I turn up there tonight." 

"That's… a very sensible strategy," Byakuya replied. "Will you be alright alone?"

"I'll be fine. There's an alley and everything."

"And you have the glove."

"Yes, tai-" The rank got bitten off before it was entirely spoken and replaced with a drawled, "Yes, mom."

Byakuya made no attempt to control his smile. "I'm hardly your mother, Renji."

"Maybe not, but you're fussing like one."

"Only because I love you." It felt so right, so real to say that now, that it was hard sometimes to remember a time when it hadn't. 

"And I love you too. I'll see you tonight." 

The phone went dead. Byakuya lowered it from his ear and gazed at it affectionately for a moment, before handing it back to Zommari, who looked at him with hopeful eyes. "She'll be fine," Byakuya told him. "If anyone can bring her home safe, it'll be Renji. He's done it many times before."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the last chapter, schneefink mentioned wanting to keep a list of the nasty folks they'd like to see dead by the end of the series. I think that's awesome so, if you've got anything like that, or plot threads you want to see tied up, feel free to add it to comments and I'll see what I can do. After all, I might know where the story's going, but there's plenty of leeway in how we get there, and I know how frustrating it can be when something you care about gets left by the wayside. *cough* Bleach *cough* Also, please bear in mind that this book is already finished, so any ideas won't be incorporated until the next, and final, one.


	23. Electric Fist: Reprise

The last thing Urahara had said before he left was that he'd be back later. That had been over a day ago, as far as Ichigo could tell, and they'd not heard a thing from the creep since. Hisagi was getting restless. Between the hot spring and Hanatarō's efforts, his injuries were healing up okay, but he was hungry. And he wasn't the only one. 

So far Ichigo had kept his appetite under control, thanks mostly to Hanatarō donating a couple of kidō for him to absorb, but that wasn't going to last forever, if for no other reason than Hanatarō was getting hungry too.

Beside him, on their perch halfway up one of the rock formations, the little guy shifted restlessly. "I know you think I'm useless and I'll get lost or hurt or something, but I'm a lot better than I used to be at finding my way around. I made it all the way here without any help."

That was true. Well, not the bit about being useless. "You're not," Ichigo said.

"Not what?" Hanatarō looked up at him quizzically. Though how that strange floppy-skinned face managed to convey 'quizzical' was still beyond Ichigo's ability to understand. It just did, so he'd stopped worrying about it. 

"Useless," Ichigo said. He owed this little guy so much, and not just for saving the 6th. Hanatarō had been there, watching his back, every day while he'd tried to make a go of it as captain. He'd been as vital as Chad in his own way.

Hanatarō shrank under his gaze, and Ichigo just knew he was going to deny it, so, poking the negator in the ribs with his elbow, he said, "I don't take useless people into the Shiba clan, and since you're going be one of us, you can't be useless." It was backwards logic, but it worked.

As expected, it took Hanatarō a moment to work through it, then he brightened up. "You really meant that?"

"Course I did. I don't say things I don't mean." Which was a lie. The look Hanatarō flashed him suggested he thought that too. "Okay, I don't say things I don't mean about things like that." Things that counted, like people's safety and future and whether Ichigo would protect them. 

Beside him, Hanatarō sighed. "I know. I believe in you, Shiba-sama. But sometimes you're not the best at trusting other people to do things when you can't."

Ouch. That stung. And sounded just a bit too much like Karin's accusations not to make Ichigo sit up and listen. Hanatarō wanted to go and get food. And it wasn't the first time the subject had come up between them. 

Up until now, Ichigo had dismissed it out of hand because he'd given Urahara his word that they'd all stay put. Now he wasn't so sure. It all came down to, how was too long to wait for Urahara to come back. 

Ichigo grimaced and glared down across the training ground. From up here he could see Hisagi hobbling back and forth, practically wearing a groove in the ground just the other side of the hot spring. He was doing it to distract himself, Ichigo knew. It was the same reason he'd come up here. Because this was the downside to getting hurt; you had to eat more to replace the reiryoku you'd used up healing. 

For him and Hisagi that was a huge problem because their hollow sides saw each other as food. For now, Ichigo had his hunger under control, but if Urahara didn't come back soon, and bring something with him to eat, they were going to end up tearing into each other again. Because that had been so much fun the first time around.

His belly chose that moment to rumble loudly. With a disgusted snort, Ichigo shook his head, and shot a quick glance up at the entrance in the ceiling above him. They said a watched pot never boiled. Turned out, doors were the same. They never opened when you were looking at them. 

But what if this one never opened at all. Giving his word to Urahara had seemed the right thing to do at the time but that was the trouble with promises; circumstances changed, and if you didn't change with them, you were sunk. 

So, Hanatarō. Turning his attention back to the little guy beside him, Ichigo gave him serious consideration. Honestly, of all of them, he was in the best state to go outside. For starters he had a full set of clothing, which was more than either Ichigo or Hisagi could boast and wearing that hood, if he kept his head down, no one would notice he was a negator. Plus the food stalls were fairly close by, so it wasn't like he'd have to go far. 

Huffing out a huge put upon sigh, Ichigo made up his mind. "If you get hurt, I'll come and thump you myself," he said, rolling to his feet and holding out his hand. "You have money?"

"Yes," Hanatarō said as he let Ichigo haul him to his feet. "You're really letting me go?"

"Only for food," Ichigo clarified, preparing to shunpo them up to the trapdoor. "No taking stupid risks."

*

As the morning wore on, Byakuya grew increasingly worried for Renji's well-being. There were no guarantees that the letter wasn't another trap, this one designed to lead them both into the hands of the Gotei, or worse, Aizen. And Renji was going in without all the facts. Several times he almost asked Zommari for the phone, ready to confess all, before changing his mind. He had no way of knowing what Renji was doing, or who he was with. An unsolicited call at the wrong moment could be even more dangerous than some perhaps useless scrap of knowledge. And anyway it was undoubtedly only the drugs making his heart race and his palms sweat.

In desperation he began working his way methodically through the apartment, tidying as he went. Locating and reshelving every salvageable book was quickly completed, at which point Byakuya moved on to the paperwork. Much of that was bills and bank statements. He made piles by type, organisation and account number, then settled in to file everything by date. It was mind-numbing work, in the kind of all-consuming way that left none of his brain free to worry about anything else, especially Renji. It tried, of course, but Byakuya was ruthless. He'd spent years training himself not to brood on certain issues and though it was more of a struggle right now, it could be done with effort, and enough distraction. 

As he worked, Zommari was a constant hovering presence of concerned glances and unspoken words. For the most part Byakuya was able to ignore him by the simple expedient of calling on childhood experiences. His father often used to hover in a similar fashion, especially after Byakuya had been with his uncle for any length of time. He worried, always, that Byakuya would be unable to keep Muramasa at bay in the event its power was turned on him. 

With all the arrogance of youth, Byakuya had thought his father foolish and himself immune to his uncle's zanpakutō, or at least practised enough at shielding that it was of no matter. In retrospect, it was he who had been the fool, a fact Aizen had proved when he used Muramasa to tear Senbonzakura from him and turn the power of their bankai on Central 46. And Byakuya had been powerless to stop it. Powerless to do anything except cradle Renji in his arms and flee with the sounds of screaming in his ears. 

Renji, whose injuries were all Byakuya's fault. Who'd suffered so much because of Byakuya's failures.

Who was still suffering.

He pulled the note Renji had left behind from his sleeve and reread it. It's implication was no less terrible the second time through and Byakuya felt yet another pang of guilt. There could be no doubt who had set the trap and taken the photographs, but perhaps if Byakuya had told Renji about the drugs, he would have been on his guard. Or if they had gone together-

"You should eat something."

The words startled Byakuya out of his meanderings and he blinked back to the present to find Zommari leaning against the door jamb, watching him, arms folded across his chest. It took him a second to recall what had been said then he replied, "I'm not hungry." If anything he felt sick.

"That's the speed talking. You need to eat."

"And you need to stop being presumptuous." Folding the note with sharp jerky motions, Byakuya tucked it safe up his hoodie sleeve. He didn't have time for this. Not when Renji was out there facing who knew what, thanks to Byakuya still not giving him all the information he needed. 

Was there no end to the ways he could fail the ones he loved.

Zommari's lips tightened. He was going to press the point. Deliberately turning his back on the human, Byakuya reached again for the paperwork, though it was only a cover. His thoughts were in turmoil. 

"A cup of tea then."

Through sheer force of will, Byakuya held his temper in check. "I have told you that I do not wish to partake." What he wanted was some time alone to digest the implications of what he'd said and done. To try and work out what he could do to offer redress.

"And I'm telling you that if you don't, you're going to get even sicker than you already are." Floorboards creaked behind Byakuya. "I know your body's a fake, but you wanna try having a look at yourself in a mirror. Compared to when we first met, you look like crap, and you didn't look exactly great back then either."

"I am fine." And if he wasn't, there was nothing this human or anyone else could do to help him. 

"No, you're not. You're malnourished. Your skin's a mess and there's bugger all muscle left on your arms and legs. For god's sake, man, all I'm saying is give yourself a chance." 

A heavy hand grabbed Byakuya's shoulder. Instinctively, Byakuya lashed out, a killing blow to the throat that was only deflected at the last moment by Zommari's forearm. His second blow was likewise parried, followed by an embarrassingly short grappling match which, by all rights, Byakuya should have won. He didn't. Instead, he found himself neatly rolled and pinned, arm up behind him, the thumb ruthlessly locked. His disgrace was complete. Brought low on all fronts, Byakuya had no choice but to surrender. He went limp.

"Do _not_ try that with me again," Zommari growled, giving his arm a painful flex. "You only won the first time because I was out of my bloody mind with worry over Ikumi. Got it?"

Byakuya nodded, not trusting himself to speak and, when Zommari released him, he clutched his arm to his belly, rubbing away soreness from skin that, now he thought about it, did feel flaccid beneath his fingers. However badly put, it was just possible that Zommari had a point. 

"Now, come and join us," Zommari was saying as he headed for the door. "It's just a sarnie. Or, I could do some rice, if that's more your thing?" 

He looked back, brows raised, obviously expecting an answer. Byakuya complied. "Anything will be fine." 

But despite his acquiescence Zommari's lips still tightened. "You're making it sound like I'm trying to poison you."

"Perhaps you are," Byakuya snapped in reply before he could stop himself.

That made Zommari grin and roll his eyes. Setting off again, he called back over his shoulder, "Paranoia, mate. Classic symptom of amphetamine addiction."

Byakuya ground his teeth closed over the many and colourful retorts he could make and followed.

The sandwich turned out to be passable and the tea surprisingly refreshing. The company however was less good. Apparently Kaoru's appreciation for him had dwindled over the morning and he spent the meal glaring at Byakuya over the table and periodically attempting to kick him under it. Byakuya was gratified to discover that his reaction times were not so impaired that a child was able to hit him.

Once everyone was finished, Byakuya stood up to clear the plates. Kaoru had already left, back to the big television and his game, but Zommari remained seated, watching Byakuya as he worked. Byakuya did his best to ignore him until, after a couple of minutes, Zommari said, "Weren't you some kind of lord or something back in dead-bloke country?" 

Hands stilling in the sink, Byakuya sighed heavily at the inanity of the question and replied, "I was head of clan Kuchiki, the most powerful clan in Seireitei." Though the Shihōin might dispute that description. 

"And you what, threw it all over to be with Renji?"

In a way, Byakuya supposed that was true. It hadn't been his intention at the time, since he'd been hoping to bring Aizen to book for his crimes, in which case there would have been a good chance that Renji and he would have been separated, quite possibly forever. However that didn't happen and so here they were. He dropped his chin and considered pale hands through bubbly water. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"Right. You obviously love him. So what I don't get is why you didn't talk to him about the drugs and how you were feeling."

Because even thinking about trying to explain about Senbonzakura again made Byakuya's throat clamp shut. He glanced over his shoulder. Zommari was seated at the table, chin propped in his hand, and he seemed genuinely curious, so Byakuya said, "Do you and your wife discuss every detail of your lives?" 

"Mostly, yeah." Zommari chuckled, shifting in his seat, long limbs rearranging themselves. "It drives her up the wall, but it was the way I was brought up. Everything gets talked to death. I guess that's what comes from having four moms."

For a second Byakuya thought he'd misheard. "Four mothers?" he queried.

Another laugh. "Well, only one in the biological sense, but they all brought me up, so they're all my moms."

The penny dropped. "Ah, I see. Your mother had multiple female partners." Now understanding what Zommari meant, Byakuya returned to washing up. 

Zommari said nothing for a while, and then in a voice that Byakuya could only describe as baffled, he said, "See, that's as confusing as hell. What kind of place kidnaps innocent women for nefarious purposes but has an aristocracy that accepts things like multiple female partners. You, mister dead-clan-head, are a conundrum." 

Ikumi's kidnap had hardly been sanctioned by the Gotei, however, thinking back to Mendori's attitude towards himself and Renji, Byakuya thought he understood the root of Zommari's confusion. "There is no prejudice in Seireitei against…" What was the term he'd used? "…'fags'."

Zommari flinched, his elbow skidding off the table top with the force of it. "You might not want to use that word too much," he said. "It's pretty nasty."

Ah. Well, since Byakuya had got it from Mendori, that made sense. "I'll bear that in mind," he said, "However the point stands. Such matters are between individuals. Outside forces only come into play if a contract is broken. Like, for example, an arrangement for the birth of a child or a commitment to exclusivity."

"Seems a bit clinical." Sighing, Zommari sprawled back in his chair, long legs taking up half the small room's floor space. "But at least everyone gets to be with whoever they want."

"Indeed. There are many merits to the system. And many disadvantages too." Which Zommari would discover soon enough. He was human after all. 

A small patch of what could be grease on the edge of a plate caught Byakuya's eye. He scrubbed at it. 

"Yeah, that's what Renji said." Zommari shifted again, the chair creaking. 

Byakuya was sure that was true, though, like him, Renji had not always been so critical. It had taken another to truly open their eyes. "Ichigo is also very vehement about Seireitei's shortcomings," he said with warm fondness, remembering some of Ichigo's more mutinous tirades. 

"Ichigo?"

"Mine and Renji's third." Before, Byakuya might have described Ichigo as his other lover. Now that seemed wrong. Ichigo was no more his than Renji was. Though he hoped that maybe they all belonged to each other. Or that he at least still belonged to them. 

"Hang on, you're dating a _guy_ called Ichigo?" Zommari said, sounding confused. 

"That is his name," Byakuya replied. "He's back in Seireitei." And simply thinking about Ichigo alone and unguarded made Byakuya's stomach clench and his head throb. 

"You left him behind. Why?"

Beneath the water, the dish cloth pulled taut between Byakuya's clenched fists. At the time, leaving Ichigo behind had seemed like the only possible course to take. Someone had to look after the 6th and be there for Renji when he returned. And Ichigo was young. If Byakuya had been unable to rescue Renji, if the pair of them had died, he would have found someone else to love. 

That was exactly what should have happened when he and Renji disappeared. Except Ichigo had found them again, his Shiba stubbornness burning through every barrier in his way. Perhaps Byakuya should have accepted that as inevitable from the very beginning. There would have been many advantages to having Ichigo with them, after all. For one thing, Renji wouldn't be out there alone right now. And Ichigo would have forced Byakuya to share the secrets that crowded his conscience. At this very moment they could be contriving some method of winning back Senbonzakura and-

The cloth shredded in his hands. Byakuya jerked as soapy water shot from the bowl soaking the front of his shirt, but it was enough to bring him back to sanity, and to remind him that Zommari was still waiting. 

After carefully wringing the excess water from the two pieces of cloth, Byakuya placed them in the bin under the sink and turned to face his accuser. Zommari sat at the table and, though his blue eyes were sharp, his posture and expression were as relaxed as they'd been before. No godling sitting in judgement this, just a man in the habit of conversation. One that Byakuya was sadly out of practice in.

"I have answered your questions to the best of my abilities," Byakuya said. "I do not understand what more you want from me." 

Zommari sat forward, resting his arms across his thighs. "I guess I was just trying to work out why a guy who's had your kind of luck, ends up taking drugs."

"That would seem self-explanatory," Byakuya retorted. After losing both his parents, his uncle and his beloved teacher, there had been times when he'd had wondered if he was cursed. And then Renji had come into his life and his luck changed, the curse had seemed lifted, his existence blessed, until he'd foolishly sent Renji away again. Then everything had coming crashing down. "There can be few who have had such back luck as I."

"Because you've had to flee your home and start again with nothing in a strange place?" Zommari shook his head, chuckling, though it wasn't a pleasant sound. "I hate to burst your self-pitying little bubble, mister clan-head, but you're not exactly the first that's happened to. And at least you had something to lose. There's literally boatloads of people who're way worse off than you, and most of them don't end up druggies."

'Most weren't him!' The indignant retort hovered on Byakuya's lips as he locked eyes with Zommari. But, despite what Byakuya had assumed, there was no judgement there, just a demand that Byakuya take a good look within himself. 

In self-defence, he wrenched his gaze away, focusing instead on the floor between them. Was Zommari right about this as well? Was it purely self-pity? Had he allowed himself to become so consumed with Senbonzakura's loss that it, in turn, had consumed him?

"Anyway," Zommari said, hands slapping down so hard the sound made Byakuya jump. "There's a van needs returning and my car isn't picking itself up."

"Of course," Byakuya replied, turning back to the sink and busying himself once more. Without Zommari, a long afternoon with nothing and no-one to distract him from getting lost in his own worries stretched ahead, but perhaps it didn't have to be so. Any company was preferable to being completely alone. As Zommari left the room, Byakuya called after him, "If it would be more convenient, Kaoru may remain here. I'm more than happy to watch him." 

Zommari paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised. "No offence but, when I invited you to come eat lunch with us, you tried to kill me. I'm not leaving my kid with someone like that."

But I only attacked because you surprised me! I would never hurt a child!

Neither protest made it past Byakuya's lips because neither was true. He'd been surprised many times in the past and not gone for the throat the way he had today. The only difference now was his current inability to control his instincts. And he had hurt many children, human and otherwise, over the years as well. The fact that he had been following orders at the time was no excuse. He knew that now. Though it had taken better people than he deserved to teach him the error of his ways.

Several minutes later, Zommari called a goodbye and the front door slammed closed. Byakuya stood and stared at his hands pruning in the cooling water. For long moments he could do nothing, think of nothing. But eventually, his mind stirred sluggishly to life and he lifted his head. He should do something. Renji was out fighting for those who needed help. The least Byakuya could do was commit to some activity that would keep his mind and body active. Except his head hurt and his heart ached and all he wanted to do was curl up in the safety of Renji's arms and feel loved and at rest. 

But that was an impossible dream. While this hunger raged inside him, Renji would always be in danger, and thus Byakuya could never find peace. However, he could stop himself from dwelling. 

Withdrawing his hands from the water, he shook them off, dried them on a towel and headed back to the bedroom he'd been tidying earlier. The paperwork and books might have been organised but there was still the clothing. That, he sorted into three piles: rags and scraps, clothing which may fit either him or Renji, though there were precious few of the latter, and the rest. 

The rubbish he disposed of in large bins Zommari had pointed him to earlier at the rear of the building, specifically the one labelled for recycling cloth. The stuff that still had wear in it and the longer lengths of cloth were bagged to be given away. Zommari had said he knew a place that would take it, and Byakuya was quite in accord with the plan. Servants at the estate were often given castoffs or scraps of good quality material when it was no longer of use to the family, so it seemed right and proper that the same thing happened here. 

Finally Byakuya was left with a small collection of clothing which might be of immediate use. One of the Quincy, presumably Ichigo's uncle given the predominance of suits and ties, seemed to be almost of a size with him, close enough to at least make the clothing wearable. Though the preponderance of white and pale grey weren't entirely to Byakuya's taste, the quality of the material and manufacture was obvious at first glance, so Byakuya spent a relatively focused hour or so checking and rechecking for snags and tears that may need to mended.

The few items that might fit Renji proved more difficult. They had obviously been Isshin's, and Byakuya soon found himself sitting with a jacket draped across his lap, lost in thoughts of his old teacher and wondering, as he always did, why Isshin had killed the Kuchiki? It still made no sense. Isshin had been close to Sōjun and, though he and Kōga hadn't exactly been friends, their political opinions too wildly divergent to permit it, there'd at least been a modicum of mutual respect between them.

So why had Isshin killed him?

Or had he? Was Ichigo right about this like he was about so many other things. Had Aizen been behind that as well.

Back on Sōkyoku Hill, when asked outright if he'd been responsible for the slaughter, Aizen had denied it, placing the blame firmly at Isshin's feet. But just a few hours later, he'd freely admitted to corrupting Muramasa when Kyōka Suigetsu was stripped from him during his interrogation after the Kyōraku killings. 

Not enough to free himself then and there, no, but enough to get a hook into Kōga's zanpakutō so that it would be easily brought to heel when the opportunity presented itself, as it had when Byakuya had so foolishly brought it with him to the hall of Central Forty-Six. 

But what else might that hook have been doing all those years? Could the person responsible for the Kuchiki deaths have been Kōga, all along?

Byakuya could imagine all too easily; Aizen's influence working slowly away at the soft underbelly of Kōga's soul, dripping poisoned words into his mind until affection and pride turned to paranoia. How easy then would it have been for Kōga to turn his sword on his own family. 

Too easy. In truth, from what Byakuya remembered of his uncle, it wouldn't have taken much at all. Kōga had certainly had no love for Sōjun. Byakuya overheard them many times in the office as Kōga ripped into Sōjun, calling him weak and useless and unfit to be a father. And seeing it that way made it reasonable to believe that Kōga had been the killer. It made far more sense than Shiba Isshin randomly deciding to slaughter his student's family. 

Lifting the jacket, Byakuya pressed it to his face and for the first time in over half a century, allowed himself to hope.

After that, it took Byakuya a good while to rouse himself enough to continue working and even then, it wasn't until he was hanging the last of the garments that he realised just how late the hour had become. The sun was well on its way to the horizon and Zommari had not yet returned from running errands.

Also, his head was throbbing again.

Fingertips pressed to temples and eyes squinting, Byakuya wandered through into the living room to check he'd not simply missed Zommari's arrival, but the kotatsu was unoccupied and the television still dark. That was worrisome. Byakuya had no idea how far Zommari needed to go to return the van, but surely had he been planning to be gone hours, he would have said before he went?

Perhaps not. After all, they'd hardly parted on friendly terms. Or perhaps it was simply that father and son had found other things to do that would allow them some time together, not in the company of strangers. It had to be hard for Kaoru with his mother gone so suddenly, and spoiling a child under such circumstances was entirely excusable.

If Zommari were here, he would undoubtedly tell Byakuya to stop worrying and make some tea or something to eat, so the kitchen was Byakuya's next stop. He checked the fridge and the cupboards, which were mostly bare, but even so, nothing appealed. The pain in his head was getting worse, enough to make his stomach feel fragile again. This morning, two of his pills had fixed the problem. Perhaps the same would work again.

Back in the living-room, Byakuya located his and Renji's small stack of belongings. Byakuya's jacket lay across the top. He picked it up and stuck his hand into the inside pocket. There was nothing there. Quickly he checked the other two pockets before returning to the first and then painstakingly inspecting every inch of the garment. By the time he was finished, he had to admit that the pill bottle was gone.

He tried the rest of their things. There were other clothes, other pockets. To no avail. His pills were missing, and Byakuya knew exactly how. Zommari! He'd stolen them!

Lip curling into a snarl, Byakuya stalked over to where Zommari's belongings were stacked neatly atop his folded futon. Grabbing the small toiletries bag that topped them, he upended it, spilling the contents across the futon. But none of it was the pills. Nor was the bottle wrapped in his pyjamas or towel. 

Kaoru's stuff was next, then Renji's. Byakuya was systematic and very thorough. He refused to even think the word frantic, though as his hands began to shake and his movements became jerky and sudden, he had to concede that the search was becoming desperate. The pills had to be here somewhere, because otherwise they weren't, and that would mean not only had Zommari stolen his pills, he'd taken them with him!

Zommari's words from that very morning came back to Byakuya like a threat. 'I'll let you have two now…' 

'Let you.' 

In Byakuya's mind, Zommari suddenly loomed large, a villain through and through. This was deliberate. Planned. Zommari had never been going to give the pills back, just hand them out as he saw fit. And now he'd gone! Leaving Byakuya alone with nothing to alleviate the pounding in his head and the deep craving that was burning inside him once again.

He needed those pills.

"I need them!"

Only when the words resounded off the ceiling did Byakuya realise he'd yelled them aloud. He was lying on his back, hands clenched at his sides, like a child in the midst of a tantrum and something inside him flipped. The next moment he was drumming his fists on the floor, screaming at the ceiling, "Where are my pills, you bastard! Give me my pills! I need them! I need them!" 

In his agony, he grabbed the nearest thing and flung it at the wall. When it smashed to smithereens, he grabbed something else. More and more followed, everything he could reach, everything he could find, he scrabbled and snatched, flinging with desperation as inside him the hunger rose, a driving irresistible force. Soon the single room was not enough, he scrambled for more. The kitchen, the bedrooms, the bathroom. Anything he could find. Anything he could wrench from the walls, anything that he could destroy as the agony destroyed him.

It was in the bathroom that he found them. The packet was already on the floor, being stamped beneath his foot when he realised. 

Pills.

He dropped to his knees, retrieving the packet and cradling the pink pills in their foil container in his hands. Pills. Fingers shaking, he popped one free and swallowed it down. Then another, and one more again because he needed it. He needed it!

Then, hunched over, pills clutched to his chest, he waited for the rush, the leap in heartbeat that would wipe away his pain, bring the world back into focus and let his life make sense again. It didn't come. Instead, his mind grew cloudier, his body numb. His head, though no longer hurting, felt weighted, and with every slowing blink, his eyelids fought to stay closed.

Eventually, he slumped sideways, curling into the mat beside the bath, succumbing finally to the thing he'd avoided for so long. Sleep.

…

Under a bruise-purple sky, a monster opened its eyes and stretched. In the distance, power thrummed, delicious and entrancing. Two sources called to it. The first was occluded right now, faint and hidden, protected behind barriers it could not breach. Regretfully, it turned away, searching out the other. This one was stronger, perhaps even than itself and, had the monster contained ought but ravening need, it might have reconsidered. 

As it was, it had no such misgivings. Instead, it pressed forward, ragged white garments clinging like mist to its cadaverous body, long black hair a tattered war-banner trailing out behind as it crunched a bony battlefield beneath clawed feet.

*

Ichigo was on the verge of sleep when pain ripped through him from stem to stern. For a second he thought hunger had finally forced his hollow out to play but then Ossan's voice bellowed, _Get out! You're not welcome here anymore!_ and reality turned inside out.

He landed on hands and knees inside the same clear bubble as before, the one carved out from Tsukishima's BFF mist by Ossan's Quincy abilities, though Ossan must have been doing some remedial work on it because now it looked stronger, like he'd reinforced it somehow. 

But, for once, it wasn't the mist that had all of Ossan's attention. The Quincy spirit was watching something outside the bubble, something Ichigo caught a glimpse of as he rose to look. It wasn't much more than a shadow, flitting back and forth through the mist far too fast for Ichigo to really get a fix on it. He peered more closely and almost jumped out of his skin when something slammed into the bubble right in front of him. 

"What the fuck?" he yelped, recoiling as sharp claws scrabbled for purchase and long-spidery limbs pressed a bulging belly to the outside. Whatever it was trying to get in, it was butt ugly. And also kind of human. Or at least, it was wearing the remains of a white yukata. But its skin was so pale that the veins beneath looked black. 

Or maybe they were black. Its eyes were. Black and sightless and set in a vaguely familiar face. But it was the scars that confirmed for Ichigo exactly who the monster was. Three of them, like angry purple star-bursts, in shoulder, chest and belly, where Ichimaru Gin had stabbed him with Shinsō all those years ago.

"Byakuya?" Ichigo murmured, stepping forward, hand out. Ossan grabbed his fingers before he could touch the barrier, which yeah, probably a good idea, but… "What's happened to him?" Ichigo couldn't tear his eyes away. It was impossible and terrible and… oh crap. Ichigo's heart lurched. He knew exactly what Byakuya looked like. A gaki, a hungry ghost. The sort of thing that crawled up out of hell to eat corpses, amongst other disgusting things. "Is he… dead?" 

_I do not know,_ Ossan said, his voice loud in Ichigo's head. _I have never seen anything like this before._

He looked dead. 

Ichigo felt numb, like some part of him couldn't accept this was real. It was shock, he knew. He remembered feeling the same after mom was killed. Right now he was running on logic and forward momentum, but sooner or later it would hit him. 

"Is Renji out there too?" he asked, trying to get the obvious things out of the way first.

Ossan frowned and cocked his head. "I do not think so."

That could mean he was still alive, Ichigo guessed. But who knew. It might just be that he'd not turned into a hungry ghost when he died. 

And how was that even possible? Was Hell even real? Shinigami were, so Ichigo guessed it wasn't such a big leap, but still… Byakuya, dead?

His heart lurched again and his throat tightened. Clenching his fists, he pushed the emotions away. He didn't have time for that sort of crap. And anyway, maybe Byakuya wasn't dead. Maybe this was just something that happened to shinigami sometimes and Ichigo was panicking for no reason.

That aside though, looking at Byakuya though the bubble, at wide-spread jaws gnawing frantically at the barrier leaving long strings of drool in their wake and matted hair falling in lank strands across shoulders whose bones stood out like tree-roots in a forest, Ichigo was certain of one thing. "He's dangerous."

 _Your entire soul-world cried out in warning when he entered,_ Ossan replied. _However I do not think it is you who is in danger._

No, that'd be Zangetsu, wherever the hell he was.

Ichigo glanced over at Ossan to ask, and paused. There was something odd about the Quincy spirit and it took a second to work out exactly what it was. The cloak, the one that was made of shadows, had lumps under it, like it was covering more than just Ossan. And the black chains were back too, but rather than holding something prisoner like they used to, now they seemed to be holding something close, cradling it against Ossan's body. 

There was only one person it could be. Ichigo swallowed and looked away; it seemed wrong to stare at Zangetsu when he was so vulnerable. 

That of course left him staring at the horror that was Byakuya again, his brain churning away: this couldn't be him. Except that it was, and what the hell was Byakuya thinking letting this happen. 

How had it even happened? The last time Ichigo had seen them, they'd been okay, kind of. Someone must have found them. Had Rukia been followed? Was this all Ichigo's fault? 

No, he couldn't think like that. Byakuya couldn't be dead. And anyway, since when had he ever given up on someone just because they looked like a monster. Hanatarō, Hisagi. They were fine. Byakuya would be too. Except - fuck. If there was anything of Byakuya left inside that thing, he'd be horrified to see what he'd become. He was always so in control of himself. 

Feeling choked, Ichigo said, "What can we do?" He didn't even know where to start.

 _I believe I can contain him for a while, however to evict him completely would take more power than I currently have to command,_ Ossan replied.

Ichigo's gaze strayed back to the lumpy cloak. "Because you're protecting him?" he asked.

Ossan inclined his head. He was sweating, Ichigo realised, and it had to be from effort because it wasn't exactly hot in here. If anything it was getting a bit chilly and damp. And also not as clear as it had been. 

His gaze dropped to the floor, drawn by the white tendrils of mist starting to seep into the bubble round their feet. "Ossan-?" Ichigo began worriedly. 

_I'm sorry, Ichigo, I cannot protect you and Zangetsu at the same time._

That was not what Ichigo wanted to hear. "So why'd you bring me in here in the first place?" he demanded, looking around for some way to get out and back to the real world. He remembered being BFF with Tsukishima and didn't plan on letting it happen again. 

_Because there is a slight possibility that I will fail,_ Ossan replied, _And if I do, that one will devour half of your soul._

He meant Byakuya. Which brought them back to, "What do you want me to do?"

Ossan blinked. He looked tired and resigned as he said, _Zangetsu is gravely injured, however you have the power to make him manifest._

Which would force him out into the real world and get him away from Byakuya. "Okay, I'll do it," Ichigo replied, bracing himself. "Shove me back out and I'll drag him along with me." He remembered how it'd felt with Urahara's tenshintai so he had some idea how to do it. 

_Ichigo, doing this will leave you vulnerable. Without your zanpakutō or your Quincy powers, you will be unable to fight._

Ichigo barked a laugh. "You're talking to the guy who's not even got pants right now. We'll manage," he said. "And anyway, what's the alternative."

Ossan's chin dropped. After a moment, he shook his head and said, _If there is one, I cannot think of it._

"Then let's go."

Ichigo fell up out of his inner world, reaching out and snagging Zangetsu as he went. Reality reformed around him, Zangetsu now a solid weight across his lap, and that was when he realised the other major problem with this plan. 

In the distance, though nowhere near far enough away for comfort, a hollow roared. Kazeshini. Zangetsu being out here must have dragged him out to play too, and right now Ichigo was in no fit state to fight anyone, least of all a homicidal hollow who thought of Zangetsu as a some kind of bentō.

Grabbing Zangetsu and hefting him up into a fireman's carry, Ichigo bolted for the trapdoor. Sure, he'd promised to stay put, but that was before Urahara had vanished without leaving a forwarding address. Right now, Ichigo needed to be gone.

It was only when he'd finished bolting the trapdoor shut that he thought about where to go. He should probably go and try to find Hanatarō, except that'd involve shopping districts and he really wasn't dressed for it. Or at all. The 6th was right out too, as was the Shiba estate. That's the first place anyone would look for him and, though he wasn't technically on the lam, he really did not want to end up back in the Senzaikyū. Not when being there left him a sitting duck for the likes of Tsukishima and Kurotsuchi.

Cracking open the cave door, he peered out at Seireitei. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, the sky around it scorched orange with the sunset. In less than an hour, it would be true night, which would make it way easier to travel and to hide. As Ichigo was contemplating just holing up right there for a while and waiting for Hanatarō to get back, the floor beneath him shook. He glanced back at the trapdoor nervously. Kazeshini was trying to get out and, even with whatever reinforcement kidō Urahara had built into the place, it was obvious that staying here just wasn't an option. 

Curled beside him on the ground, Zangetsu sighed and his nose wrinkled slightly. He looked incredibly young, and beyond exhausted. Now, back in the real world, Ichigo could see the livid traces of scars on his skin, his face, around his neck and up his arms. The marks Kurotsuchi had left on Ichigo's body. Zangetsu must have taken them into himself so Ichigo wouldn't have to bear them.

Just the thought of that made Ichigo's throat tighten.

And now Zangetsu was under threat again, even if it was from someone who was most likely just as much a victim themselves. It didn't matter. Hurt was hurt and it was up to Ichigo to keep Zangetsu safe until Ossan could make his inner world secure again. 

What he needed was somewhere no one else would think to look. Somewhere no one else would want to go. Ichigo looked outward again, searching the Seireitei and his memory, and something he'd overheard just before Kurotsuchi had grabbed him came flooding back. 

Hoisting Zangetsu into his arms, he stepped up the side of the hill and through the small copse of trees at the top. Out toward the north east, where the 7th should be, thin plumes of smoke that were barely visible in the dwindling light curled up into the air and even from here, Ichigo could tell that there'd been one hell of a lot of damage.

Shin. Kaito. If the 7th was gone, what had happened to them? 

He was taking off in that direction before he really thought it through.

*

Luckily Renji had a good grasp of the geography around the Red Iris, so, rather than spending the day loitering suspiciously in an alley, he swarmed up onto a nearby roof that very conveniently overlooked the club. Crouched behind the parapet, gazing out over the surrounding block, he couldn't help feeling more than a bit chuffed with his aerie. It was perfect. If the Iba opened a senkaimon, he would definitely see it from here.

A few hours later, he was wishing he'd brought a cushion to lie on, or anything really that wasn't roof gravel. He was also wishing that the little old lady hanging washing on the lines stretched across the roof behind him would stop giving him the evil eye. It made him feel like a criminal. 

Doing his best to ignore her, he ran his fingers across the top of his can of coffee before cracking it open. At least he had supplies. The bentō wasn't much, but it'd keep him going. Likewise the drink. And both were sealed. He'd double checked that because, the more he thought about it, the more he was positive that Hanna had drugged him even before the sex started. It was the only thing that made any sense and he'd never have suspected it. Why would he? This was the living world. People didn't do shit like that to each other. Except apparently they did. 

And he wasn't the only victim. Where the hell had Byakuya even got drugs from?

Okay, truthfully that was easy to answer. The club was rife with them. Renji had known that since the night Hanna had made him play footstool while she tore into that girl about not getting the information she was supposed to. 

Come to think of it, that had been a drug and fuck job too. Crap, how dumb had he been to fall for the same trick.

Annoyed and embarrassed, Renji swigged a gulp of coffee. Byakuya taking the kind of shit Hanna was selling definitely explained a few things though, like how come he was so chatty some days and those cleaning buzzes he went on. And all the time Renji had thought he was doing okay. That'd _they'd_ been doing okay.

Zommari said they should talk about it. Renji wasn't so sure. Byakuya wasn't the best at sharing, and anyway Renji had a good idea exactly what it was that was bothering him and honestly talking about it wasn't going to help. But nor would taking drugs, not if they made him like he'd been this morning. That had been scary in a way Renji wasn't used to dealing with. 

So yeah, maybe Zommari was right. Maybe they did need to talk.

The roof door slammed closed behind him. Thinking the old lady had finally left, Renji glanced casually over his shoulder, only to vault to his feet when he saw who was there. 

"Lee," he snarled, pulling himself up to his full height and folding his arms across his chest. 

He'd gone for intimidating, and it seemed to work. A bit too well. Instead of coming any further, the club's second-string host kind of jiggled on the spot by the door. His gaze was everywhere but on Renji, his hands constantly moving, either plucking at his leather jeans, or sliding up and down his arms or swiping across his pierced nose, and now Renji knew what he was looking at, it was obvious. The guy was strung out. Hanna must be feeding him drugs too. 

Teeth clamping shut over all the things he'd like to call Kutsuzawa Hanna, Renji headed towards the guy because, strung out or not, he couldn't just let him leave, not now he knew Renji was here. "Who sent you," Renji demanded when he got close enough not to have to shout.

Lee jumped like he'd not seen Renji coming and put his hands up. "No one," he squeaked. "Just… Kagari-obaasan said you were up here." He jerked his head in the direction of the drying sheets, and the distinct absence of old lady who'd been hanging them. 

Damn it, Renji should have guessed that would happen. The people who lived around here knew exactly who ran the club, of course they'd be good neighbours and report someone spying on it. But still, "No way would come all the way up here just 'cause some old bat said there was someone dodgy on the roof," Renji said. "Someone must've sent you. Was it Hanna?" 

Lee cringed. "Kinda," he said, and that's when pain exploded between Renji's shoulder-blades. His legs went from out under him and, for a split-second, he thought he'd been hit with a shakkahō, then the waves of agony started, along with the twitching which told Renji exactly what had got him. A fucking taser. Again. 

This time he managed not to black out, but it was a close run thing. The electricity was making all his muscles spasm; his chest seized and his neck arched back, slamming his head into the gravel roof. 

"Shit!" he heard someone yelp. "He's having a fit!"

No kidding. It was the gigai. Just like last time, it was making the shock worse or longer or something. Renji hadn't a clue. All he knew was that it really fucking hurt and he really wished it would fucking stop so he could use the glove that he'd shoved down his pants precisely so he wouldn't end up losing it or getting it stolen and gods damn it, even that wasn't enough to stop him being caught! Humans were so fucking annoying!

The taste of blood blossomed in his mouth. He'd bitten his tongue. Crap. And he couldn't even swallow.

He choked, bloody saliva filling the back of his nose as another voice said, "Is he dying?"

No, but he might end up stuck in a dead gigai if these bastards didn't turn him over. At least Mizuiro had had the sense to stick him face down in the back of the car after he'd shocked him.

Someone must have had the same thought because a moment later they shoved him over and, still twitching like a landed fish, Renji flopped onto his front. It helped, some, inasmuch as now he was drooling bloody saliva instead of choking on it, but he wasn't going to be moving voluntarily any time soon. It also meant it was an easy task for whoever was back there to grab his wrists and fasten them together behind his back. 

Renji tried to stop them, but the effects of the taser were really hanging on this time. Even after several minutes, he was still shuddering and shivering through aftershocks and was feeling beyond unfocused and uncoordinated. 

"We need to get him back to the club."

That sounded like Nic. Both the hosts were there then, and it must have been him who used the taser. "B'st'rd," Renji slurred, as he felt someone close in on him. "G'nna f'kin' k'll ya."

"What did he say?" That was Lee. His voice was higher and he sounded scared.

"Doesn't matter. Hey, I think he's stopped seizing. Give us a hand." Someone yanked on his arm and, though he tried to struggle, Renji quickly found himself dangling between the two guys, feet dragging as they headed towards the ladder down to the ground, which was going to be so much fun.

The ladder turned out to be impossible so they ended up taking him down through the building, wrapped in one of the old bag's sheets and if it got blood on it then that was just fair and proper. As Renji had expected, Hanna was waiting for them at the club, but she wasn't alone. Akio was behind the bar, and she took one look at Renji and shrieked, "What did you do?!"

With a grunt Nic heaved Renji onto the couch. "Taser'd him," he said a bit breathlessly. 

"Couldn't you, I don't know, just have talked?" Akio asked hurrying towards them. Lee passed her going the other way and disappeared upstairs without even a backward glance. Renji didn't blame him in the slightest.

"Don't be stupid," Nic was sneering, "Least with a taser you ain't gonna have him squeal if he's wired. It fries all the electronics. And it should've been fine, except he went and had a fit or something." 

He let go of Renji's shoulder and Renji began toppling sideways. If he could've moved, he'd have stopped himself, but that really wasn't gonna happen. The shivers and shudders were finally stopping, but he still felt kind of numb, like maybe something in the gigai had malfunctioned this time. His best hope, and had been from the start, was the glove. Out of the gigai, none of these assholes would stand a chance, but with his hands secured behind him, he couldn't get at it, so for now he didn't have any choice but to stay put.

Soft cushions appeared just before Renji's head hit the wooden arm of the couch. Akio again, going by the knee-length socks and dimpled knees that suddenly filled Renji's line of sight. They looked wildly surreal seen at ninety degrees. 

"What about his back-up? Were there signs of anyone else out there?" Hanna asked, dropping into a chair opposite. She glared over at Renji like he was some kind of dangerous zoo escapee. Renji tried to curl a lip at her on principle and just ended up drooling some more. It pooled on the cloth under his cheek and she looked away, disgusted.

"Nope. And he's not wired either. I checked," Nic said, heading towards the bar, digging in his pocket as he went. "I reckon he's called ya bluff and come alone."

Hanna growled and cast another filthy look Renji's way. "Useless idiot! Can't he do anything right?" She sighed and twirled her hair. "Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. There's been a change of plan." 

Behind her, a cigarette halfway to his mouth, Nic froze. "What d'ya mean?"

Hanna twisted in her seat to glare at him. "Thanks to that old hag opening her mouth, Mendori-san's got cold feet and he's convinced Daddy that it's too dangerous to finish the job here. The whole plan's screwed to hell and back." She flumped back into the chair and stretched her hands along the arms. "We'll just have to try again some other time." 

"Maybe we can speak to the doctor again," Akio said quietly. She came into view a few feet away and sank on the arm of the chair next to Hanna's. Her arms were folded, her shoulders hunched and even her hair-bunches looked sad. "That way we can avoid having the police involved at all."

"No way," Hanna shot back. "I told you, Akio-chan, either they all go or none of them. You know what'll happen if your father-in-law's left in charge. We'll be banished back to the house and everything we've worked for will be gone."

Akio sagged in her seat even more but nodded agreement.

Behind them, Nic had remained motionless as the sisters talked. Finally he seemed to gather himself enough to finish lighting his cigarette and say, "So he's called the job off then?"

Hanna snorted and leaned her head back so she could see him. "No. He's found somewhere else." She gestured dismissively. "Out west somewhere. Near Akiruno or something, I don't know." 

"What?" Now Nic looked confused. "You said the only place he could do it was here." 

"Well, that's what I thought, but I was wrong," Hanna said sharply. "Suck it up." She huffed and sat properly again, one well-manicured finger twirling ringlets in her hair. 

For a long second Nic simply stared at the back of her head, then he ground his cigarette out in the ashtray and stalked across the room towards Renji. "Fine. I'll let this one go then." 

"Don't be stupid. If you do that he'll report in and tell them everything." 

"So what the hell do you want me to do?!" Nic protested, throwing his arms wide.

Hanna rolled her eyes. "I don't know. Stick to the original plan but use him instead?" she suggested. "It's not like the old man wasn't already planning on refurbishing this place."

"I ain't no arson expert," Nic complained, taking a step back. "Least, not enough to cover up evidence of a murder."

Hang on, what? Renji's brain made a valiant effort to function through fuzzy blankness. That sounded like they were planning on burning the club down. With him in it. 

Somehow he managed to struggle onto his knees before the gigai gave out and he collapsed again, face-mashing into the soggy cushions. _Zabi?_ he tried in desperation as he heard Akio saying, "What about a suicide?" 

Zabimaru's answering roar was distant and indecipherable. No help coming from that quarter then. Not that he'd expected it. Even though the seal was weaker, the gigai kept Zabi way deep.

"That's a good idea," Hanna replied. "No one ever investigates suicides."

"They might if it's someone like him," Nic pointed out gloomily.

"Not if we use these." There was a sound of rustling and, out the corner of his eye, Renji saw Hanna taking something out of her purse. "Put them in his pockets and hang him from a light fitting. That way, when they find him, he'll just look like a sad loser who was too embarrassed to face his employers." 

The rest of the photographs. Fuck. He should have guessed those'd make an appearance. Renji pressed his face into the cushions and tried not to think about them. And ended up thinking about his planned demise instead. A fire would suck. So would hanging, but nothing they were suggesting would actually kill him. 

At least, he didn't think it would. Though with these gigai, who knew. Shiba Isshin had managed to father a child with one, so maybe Renji should be worried.

"Okay, fine," Nic was saying. "But you two ain't getting involved. It's too risky."

"Can you manage on your own?" Hanna asked, just as Akio said, "Oh, thank goodness." She continued immediately, "Hanna let's leave it to Nic. He's better at this sort of thing. We can go shopping or something."

"Listen to your big sister," Nic said seriously. "She's talking sense. This ain't the kind of thing you want in on, not up close and personal."

"Please, Hanna?" Akio wheedled. "I'll take you to the new Louis Vuitton and buy you something cute."

That did the trick. "Fine," Hanna conceded. 

Akio bounced to her feet. "Let me grab some stuff from the office. I'll be right back."

Steel tipped heels clipped across the floor and up the stairs. After a moment Hanna said, "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah," Nic replied. "And anyway I've got Lee. He'll pitch in if I need help."

There was the sound of rustling as Hanna stood, then she said, "I'll leave you something for him just in case."

Renji managed to move his head enough to see her handing a little baggy to Nic, who took it reluctantly. Then she held out another. "If he looks like he might be a problem, cut the first one with this. It'll look like an overdose." Nic looked even less happy with that idea, but nodded and pocketed both baggies anyway. 

"Call us when you're done," Hanna said. "We can go out to dinner. Start planning how to get rid of the old men again." As she spoke, she ran her palms up Nic's chest and leaned into him. He responded, dipping down to kiss her, long and deep, his hands sliding down her back to grip her hips, pulling her tight against him. 

That was enough. Renji didn't want to see any more. He turned his head away just as Hanna made a whining sound that some part of him found familiar enough that he wanted to throw up. Or maybe come. He really wasn't totally sure. He just wished they'd stop. 

Trying to block out the noises they were making, he worked on getting his hands to move. They might be behind his back but even wriggling his fingers this point would be a victory. He had to get at the glove that was currently stuck down the front of his pants. That had seemed like such a fantastic idea when he'd first thought of it, but now was a fucking nightmare. Stupid him for not planning for a malfunctioning gigai.

He was no closer to success when, a few minutes later a door slammed upstairs and feet thumped on the stairs. The canoodling couple parted just as Akio reappeared from behind the bar. She'd changed into something pale blue and frilly and her hair was up in high pony-tail. "I'm ready," she said brightly. "Can we go now?"

"I'm ready if you are," Hanna quipped. She patted Nic on the cheek and went to join her sister as she left through the main door, pausing only to blow a kiss back in Nic's direction. 

He caught it with a grin and waved as the door fell shut behind them.

*

For the longest moment after the women left there was nothing but silent stillness, then Nic huffed a massive sigh and started back towards Renji, fishing for something in his inside pocket as he came.

Knife! was Renji's first thought, followed by, drugs! The bastard was going to drug him again, and then Renji wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop getting hung and burned. The moment Nic came close enough, Renji kicked out, trying to catch him with his feet. "Y' try an' kill me-" he began, the words slurring off his tongue. Stupid damned fucked-up gigai.

"Good, you're awake," Nic said, avoiding the feet easily. He tugged a cell-phone from his pocket and held it up so Renji could see. "Will you be okay for a bit? I need to make a call."

Okay, that was weird. Renji could have sworn that Nic's accent was rougher than that, more district sixty than the thirty it sounded now. Also, he was being nice. Kind of. Though compared to Lee and Mendori, he'd never been really mean. Except for whatever had happened over that weekend. If Nic had even been involved. 

An image formed in Renji's mind, of Nic grinning at him over a table full of drinks. Had that actually happened, or was he just making things up now to try and fill in the blanks?

"Abarai? I asked if you were okay." Renji blinked back to the here and now to find Nic crouched in front of him, peering into his face. A waft of strong aftershave assaulted Renji's nose and though he couldn't remember ever smelling it before, something about it made his stomach lurch and his pulse leap into overdrive. 

"If you can't speak, just nod," Nic said, reaching out. Renji tried to jerk backwards and failed, but Nic's hands were gentle as he pried each of Renji's eyes open. He sat back on his heels with a frown. "Your pupils are okay."

That was what he'd been checking? Seemed a bit rich for the guy who'd used a taser. Except maybe it wasn't. "Y'r diffr'nt," Renji slurred. His tongue was numb. He kept biting it when he talked. It sucked.

Nic looked surprised for a second and then chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose I am. Look, it's a long story, but I promise I'll get you to a hospital once I've made this call, so just keep breathing, okay?"

Renji would have liked to have told him that a hospital was no use at all, unless it was in Karakura and contained a wrinkly old doctor by the name of Arisawa, but that was way too complicated. Instead, he just nodded clumsily. Nic grinned at him, patted his leg, and stood up. "Good man."

He didn't go far, just a few paces away before poking at his phone and holding it to his ear. "It's me," he said after a moment. "I need to speak to the chief. Now." Then he paused, presumably waiting for whoever this 'chief' was to pick up. Another yakuza boss? 

Renji didn't think so, but he knew the moment the person came on the phone because Nic's entire body language changed. He straightened up, gaining about two inches in height from his usual slouch, his shoulders went back, his eyes sharpened and his jaw firmed. Between one moment and the next, Nic changed from punk to soldier and it came as absolutely no surprise at all when the first words out of his mouth were, "Superintendent Kojima, it's Ginjō. We've got a problem."

Renji's brain flipped into overdrive. This wasn't just Nic using a different name, this was a whole different _identity_. And this, he was suddenly positive, was why everyone was so convinced him and Byakuya were police. Not because of anything they'd done, but because _someone_ was telling them that they were, as cover for himself. The sneaky shit! 

Renji was so impressed, he almost missed the rest of the conversation.

"They've relocated. Somewhere out west-" Pause. "I know. I'm sorry. She completely blindsided me." Another pause. This time Nic - or Ginjō or whatever he was called - pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir. Right now though, the only possible location we've got is somewhere around Akiruno City."

Renji knew that name. And he'd passed the station sign enough times in the last few weeks to know it was way too close to Naruki-shi to be a coincidence.

"'Nag'ya," he husked, kicking out when Nic ignored him and kept talking. His foot thumped into the arm of the couch. No reaction. Renji did it again. And again, until Nic turned to frown at him, then he summoned up all his voice and croaked loudly, "U-na-gi-ya." It still came out thick and slurred but it was enough to get the bastard's attention.

"Hang on a minute, sir. I might have something." Nic took the phone from his ear, and looking totally bemused said, "An eel shop?"

What? Oh. Renji shook his head. "'Nag'ya 'Kumi. Lives N'ruki-shi."

Some of the confusion cleared. Nic put the phone back to his ear. "Sir-?" A pause, then his posture relaxed a little. "He did? No, that's okay, you'll do fine. Check the victim list for me. Is there an Unagiya Kumi on it? Might have connections to Naruki-shi." As he spoke, he began to pace, his fingers tapping a beat on his thigh.

It sounded like Nic didn't know if Unagiya-san was one of the victims. How was that even possible? Then again, Akio must have interviewed loads of people and, even if he was her sister's boyfriend, Nic was only a host. There'd been no reason for her to share the details of all her targets.

"No? Okay, how about Nagiya Yuu."

He didn't get any further than that. Outside, the front doors of the club suddenly slammed open and Nic's expression went from concerned to annoyed in a heartbeat. 

Pressing his thumb to his phone and slipping it back in his pocket, he glanced over at Renji, finger to his lips in the universal sign for 'keep your mouth shut', and by the time the inner doors opened and Akio-chan's father-in-law, Mendori-san, stalked into the bar, Ginjō the policeman was gone and Nic, the slouching club host, was back. 

"Where're the girls," demanded Mendori-san looking around. When he caught sight of Renji, his thin face curled into a sneer. "What the hell you doin' with that?"

"Err…" Nic replied, his gaze flicking between Renji and Mendori-san, "Akio-chan took Hanna-san shopping. They kinda left me to deal with him."

"You?" Mendori-san lifted an eyebrow. "And what's a pretty boy like you gonna do with a cop? His hair and make-up?" He laughed, like he'd made a joke.

Nic chuckled along, scrubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably, and Renji had to hand it to the guy, there wasn't a hint of the policeman left in either his voice or his body language. "I was gonna make it look like a suicide, you know, string him up from the ceiling, and then set light to the joint and-"

A bark of laughter cut him off before he could get any further. "Arson? Crap, boy, you wouldn't know one end of a fire from the other." Mendori-san shoved his way past Nic on his way towards Renji, who did his best to merge with the back of the couch. "Anyway, Aniki wants to handle this himself. Send 'em a message." He jerked his head. "Give us a hand getting him out to the van, then you can go shopping with the rest of the girls."

Nic's expression turned slightly panicky around the eyes, which was nothing to how Renji was suddenly feeling. Nic might be an undercover cop but he'd also been the one to stick Renji with the taser in the first place, and now he was facing a choice; let Renji get taken, or stop Mendori-san and risk exposing himself. The question was, just how far was Nic prepared to go to keep his cover? 

Renji didn't plan on waiting around to find out. When Mendori-san touched him, he went off like a particularly clumsy landed fish, thrashing and kicking, and generally doing his best, considering the malfunctioning gigai, to make it impossible for them to even grab him, let alone drag him out to the waiting van. 

With an annoyed snarl of, "Don't just stand there," Mendori-san grabbed the back of Renji's shirt and tried to pin him to couch. Renji bucked, and by some miracle felt the back of his head hit something solid that gave under the impact.

"Fuck!" Mendori bellowed and suddenly Renji was free. Shoving his shoulders into the couch, he managed to get his legs under him and reeled to his feet, using forward momentum to stay upright. Every step was a battle, his knees kept trying to collapse, his ankles locking, but he kept going, heading for the door, because if he could just get out of the club then maybe someone outside might just be honest enough to lend a desperate soul a hand, because there sure as hell wasn't anyone like that inside. 

He'd reckoned without Mendori. A kick in the back of the thigh took his legs just as he reached the outer corridor. He slammed into the floor, knees first, ass in the air, and took the next boot right in the balls. He might have screamed. He probably did. The whole world whited out into sheer blazing agony. He wanted to puke. Or die. He wanted to nurse his balls between careful hands and pray for the pain to stop, but couldn't because the fuckers were still tied behind him. So instead he curled up on the ground, tears rolling down his cheeks, his absolute limits met, and tried not to pass out from the pain.

They'd shifted him into the back of the van by the time he was capable of thinking straight again. He was lying on the bare metal floor with some kind of nasty smelling sheet thrown over him. Renji groaned. Fuck, his nuts hurt so damned much, all he wanted to do was cry. 

"You might as well take me with you," Nic was saying. "Just in case he manages to land one on you again."

"Take a fucking hike. He was lucky, is all. Bastard won't get another chance." That was Mendori-san and, going by the direction of their voices and the chilly breeze blowing up under the sheet, they were chatting by the van's open door.

"What if you get pulled over? If I'm in the back with him-"

"I ain't gonna get pulled over. Now will ya get ya prissy hands off my fucking van and go find the rest of the girls-"

"But oyabun-" 

Something slammed into the side of the vehicle. Renji had a bad feeling it was probably Nic. "I told ya to fuck off. This ain't none of your business, got it?" Mendori-san's voice dripped angry disdain.

"But Hanna-chan and me-" 

Another slam. "Shut it! You ain't family. And you ain't never gonna be. Girl wants to have her fun, all well and good, but who she marries and when is up to her father. You understand me?"

No answer. 

The slam came again, this one making the whole van rock. "Ow! Shit! Fine. Whatever. I'll go find Hanna-chan. But I'm taking the night off. You bastards owe me that much, at least."

"Do what you fucking want." The van door crashed shut, cutting off any further conversation. 

Renji pressed his face to the cold metal floor as someone climbed in the front and the engine started up. The movement of the vehicle as it pulled away from the curb made his balls ache even more. Now the initial agony had subsided, he just hurt, like the whole area had a migraine. What he needed was something to take his mind off the pain.

Like how Nic was a two-faced bastard and was letting Renji get driven off to his death?

Well, probably not his death, but more of the treatment he'd just gotten would almost certainly be on the cards. If he could just get out of the damned gigai it wouldn't matter, and if he needed something to take his mind off things, he'd be better off focusing on that than lying here feeling sorry for himself.

Rolling onto his side, Renji bit back a whimper and wiggled worm-like across the floor until his hands hit the metal side of the van. Then he started feeling around for a sharp bit, or really anything he could use to anchor the plastic cuffs in place. At this point he wasn't beyond pulling the gigai's hands off so he could get free, but it'd be better if he could cut the cuffs.

Suddenly the van cornered hard. With nothing to hang on to, Renji slid-rolled across the floor, yelping as he went, hitting first face, then side, then back, face, and side again before slamming into the opposite wall. "Ow!" he yelled. "Can't you drive this thing properly!" and oh! That had come out clearer.

Renji flexed his jaw. It was moving perfectly. So were his legs, though he was a lot more careful about moving them because it made his balls throb and even the reiatsu collecting around them wasn't gonna stop them hurting any time soon-

Hang on. There was reiatsu around his balls? How could he even tell? He wasn't supposed to be able to sense reiatsu in this gigai. 

He kicked his legs again, carefully, and realised that the cloth had fallen off and in the van's dim light, he could see four knees instead of two, one pair raised, the other limp like they belonged to a corpse. He must be half out of the gigai, like how he'd ended up back at Mizuiro's apartment after the first tasering.

Now, how had he fixed it that time?

Thinking back, Renji was pretty sure it was Mizuiro who'd done it with the glove. But the glove was still down his pants, and he didn't remember operating it, so how…

The memory of the boot slamming into his balls made Renji simultaneously whine and want to puke, but it also made him think. The Quincy glove was always primed with reiatsu which it somehow made from the world around it. To operate it, you put your hand inside and basically hit that reiatsu into the gigai and that shoved your body out of it. 

Had the kick in the balls done something similar to the glove tucked down his pants? And if it had, could he find some way of doing it again, preferably without the astounding levels of pain and agony.

The next time the van went round a corner, Renji used the momentum to sit up. He slid partway down the van wall, but got up far enough to see that there was a partition between him and the driver. Good if you got stopped with contraband on board, Renji guessed, but a liability if you were smuggling something that was trying to escape.

Chewing on his lip, he tried kneeing himself in the balls. That was a non-starter. Not only did it fail to hit the glove, it impacted things that really didn't want to be impacted right now.

Cursing under his breath, Renji let himself slide the rest of the way down the wall as bits of him he was fond of throbbed in remembered agony. If they were going all the way to Akiruno, he had about an hour of travelling time to get out of the gigai, so no real hurry. There was time to heal as much as he could. In the meantime, he needed another distraction. Preferably one that didn't involve moving. 

Like working out what he was going to do when he got to the other end. Ironically, escaping probably wasn't the best way to go. If Kutsuzawa wanted to make an example of him, then the chances were good that he'd get to play witness to the murders before they did him in. Which meant his best bet was probably to sit tight until he had everyone in his sights, then dump the gigai any way he could and take them all out in soul form. He should even be able to rescue the humans okay since they'd been selected for reiryoku levels as well as whatever technical expertise Iba was after so they should be able to see him even without the gigai. 

Of course that bit would be easier if the police turned up to help. Which brought Renji's thoughts reluctantly back to Nic. Just how attached was that guy to his cover anyway? For all that Renji was fucking furious with him, he had made an effort not to let Renji get dragged off alone. Maybe that'd follow through to him sending the cavalry to help out, once they'd worked out where this thing was going down.

Renji frowned and rubbed his head against the side of the van. He still didn't understand why Unagiya-san wasn't on the victim list. It made no sense. Zommari was convinced she'd been snatched-

Zommari.

If Renji could've smacked his head with his palm, he would have. As it was, he banged it against the floor instead. He was a fucking idiot. Unagiya-san was married. Knowing the way things worked this side of the dangai, she was probably registered under her married name.

But even so, Nic still might be able to find him. After all, he had told Nic her given name, and there couldn't be that many Ikumi's with connections to Akiruno on the victim list, could there?


	24. Tall Tail Spinning

The damage was so much worse up close. There was hardly a building left standing. And that wasn't the worst of it. Ichigo stood on the remains of the 7th division perimeter wall and looked out over the ruins of what had been a busy civilian district. It was empty of people now and the air reeked of smoke. All that was left of the vast laundries were broken charred spars jutting up from mounds of ash and rubbish, and the river beyond was a sluggish rubble-filled mire. 

Ichigo stared at the space where the neat row of shops used to be. There was nothing there now but beaten dirt, like a tidal wave had come in and washed it all away. Had Kaito and his grandmother been inside when the attack came, or did Shin manage to get them out in time? He would have, if there'd been any warning at all, Ichigo knew, because despite what everyone said, Shin took his responsibilities seriously and Ichigo had put him in charge of looking after that little branch of the Shiba clan. 

So, if he had rescued them, where were they now? The 6th, probably. Ichigo should head over there and check.

He was turning to go find them when Hanatarō's words came back to him. _'Sometimes you're not the best at trusting other people to do things when you can't,'_ and the memory brought him up short. The little guy was right, Ichigo was crap at trusting people. And right now, he needed to trust Shin, not only to have got Kaito and his grandmother out, but to still be looking after them, because right now Ichigo wasn't in a position to go searching for them himself. Not as a wanted man with no pants and an injured zanpakutō on his back.

He glanced up at Zangetsu, who was still deeply asleep, and tried to get his priorities in order. They couldn't stay here, not up on the wall anyway. Over in the distance, the remains of the 7th were a possibility. It looked deserted and Ichigo couldn't detect any reiatsu signatures.

Actually, that was odd. Hadn't that messenger said that Aikawa was linked to the attack on the Towa? You'd have thought the 2nd would be all over the site if that was the case. Or at least have left a few guys behind to guard it. 

Dropping down off the wall, he picked his way across the crater ravaged training ground, keeping a watching brief for any untoward reiatsu signatures up ahead. The closer he got to the ruined buildings, the more the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, because there was still nothing. No one. Not even the 7th themselves. 

Something here wasn't right. Could it be Aizen? 

Ichigo tucked that thought away and continued, even more warily than before. 

It wasn't until he drew close to the first of the wrecked buildings, that he finally got an inkling as to why the place was deserted. A man's body lay sprawled, half in, half out of what remained of the doorway. Blood, now dried black, had left tracks down his face from eyes, nose and mouth, and pooled under his head. 

There were others too, further back in the building, which at a guess going by the futons and pillows, had been a barracks. The roof had come down on them, but from what little Ichigo could see, all the bodies were the same. Eyes, nose and mouth bloodied. Ears too. 

That was a blast injury, and without burns, it kind of had to be reiatsu. It looked like someone had walked into the place and let loose with such a huge wave of reiatsu that it had killed everyone. And the barracks wasn't an isolated example. The further Ichigo walked, the more bodies he found. All of them caught scrambling to defend themselves.

Onmitsukidō. Ichigo's memory wasn't the clearest, but he was pretty sure that's who the messenger said were behind the raid. Which meant Yoruichi had done this.

It was hard to reconcile the friendly laughing woman he knew with the carnage around him. Sure, he'd seen glimpses of her onmitsukidō commander alter ego, like when she'd been trying to arrest him up on Sōkyoku Hill, but this… this was a slaughter. These shinigami hadn't even had a chance to defend themselves. Shit, half of them had still been in bed!

Still reeling with disbelief, Ichigo kept going. He couldn't bring himself to stop, because if he did, he'd see details and he really didn't want to see details. There'd been enough suffering lately, enough death. If he went the rest of his life without seeing any more, he'd be a happy guy.

The buildings closer to the main quad were emptier, though no less damaged. At a guess, the raid had happened overnight when there'd only been a skeleton crew on duty to keep the division secure. If they were anything like the 6th, they'd have been relying mostly on mod souls and kidō to keep out intruders, and Ichigo would lay money Yoruichi knew twenty ways to get round both of those without setting them off. 

But she shouldn't have. Ichigo was no expert on Gotei law, but he was fairly sure that invading a division with the express purpose of murdering all the shinigami and arresting the captain wasn't allowed. Not even if they'd killed a clan-head. From what Kūkaku had said, even the Kuchiki had had to go through proper channels to get their revenge against the Shiba. 

And that's what this was. Revenge. Against an entire division. 

The only part of the main building left standing was the ground floor and something told Ichigo if there was anything of significance to find, that would be the place to look. Slowly, he made his way towards it, avoiding the worst of the bodies and ruined buildings, and climbed the front steps. There, half hidden by charred boards and tumbled beams was what looked like a makeshift bier. 

With a sinking heart, Ichigo picked his way forward. Really, there was only ever going to be one person on the thing, so he wasn't exactly surprised to see the white haori wrapped around the badly burned body. Aikawa had been killed, not arrested, and if Yoruichi was trying to send a message, she'd done it loud and clear. 

You attack us, and we'll attack you back; harder, faster and more ruthlessly than you.

Rage surged in Ichigo's chest. How could she! Even if Aikawa had been guilty, not all of his division could have been in on the plot. And to kill them too…? Fuck revenge. This was way more complicated than that. This was escalation, and Hirako was going to go ballistic.

Anger still rising, Ichigo stomped back to the steps. As he got there, a sudden familiar lick at his reiatsu sent him leaping down them, immediately on the defensive as he searched for Yoruichi in the gathering darkness. Only it wasn't a black cat that sauntered out of the shadows towards him, it was Ichimaru Gin. 

"Aah, would you look at all this. They said Aikaiwa-taichō had gone down fighting but ta take his whole unit with him… Now that's a truly generous leader." 

"What the fuck are you doing here!" Ichigo snapped in reply, straightening up to face the 3rd division captain who was walking towards him at a slow and steady pace. He was in no mood to deal with what passed as humour with Ichimaru tonight.

Ichimaru's perpetual smile grew even broader. "Did I scare ya, Ichigo-kun? I'm sorry for that, but ya see, I had a delivery to make and ya so obvious sat out here in the middle of all these dead people."

He shouldn't be obvious. Ichigo had his reiatsu clamped as tight to his body as he could, considering he was manifesting Zangetsu. It should have been enough to stop people sensing him. Though, to be fair, his control did tend to waver when he was upset. 

Some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face because, when he finally got close enough that they could talk without raising their voices, Ichimaru waved a dismissive hand. "Ain't nothing that just anyone could sense. Ya feel a bit like ya father, is all, and we always had a connection."

Not exactly reassured by a statement that creepy, Ichigo took a step back to put a bit of extra distance between Zangetsu and Ichimaru. Just because Ichimaru hadn't attacked in the past was no reason to be stupid about it now. And Zangetsu was a hollow.

"I asked you what you were doing here," Ichigo said again, because it made no sense that Ichimaru _was_ here. If he'd sensed Ichigo, why hadn't he told Yoruichi or Urahara.

"And I told you it was because I had a delivery to make." Ichimaru dragged something out from behind his back and tossed it at Ichigo. As it flew through the air, the cloths wrapped around it shredded away and Ichigo suddenly found himself looking at Yuzu. 

With a curse, he dropped Zangetsu, who fell to the floor with a thump, and darted forward to catch his sister. She landed in his arms, a dead weight, and for a second her still pale face so like mom's was all he could see. Dead, dead, dead, his brain thumped until, miraculously he felt her chest rise and fall.

"She's alive," he choked, looking up at Ichimaru from where he ended up, hunched over the sleeping Yuzu and clutching her close.

Ichimaru's expression turned profoundly disappointed. "Ya thought I'd throw the body of ya dead sister at ya?" he said, as if it'd be a travesty to even consider such a thing.

To be honest, Ichigo didn't know if it was. Byakuya said a lot of things about Ichimaru that weren't exactly kind, but then Ichimaru had stabbed Byakuya in the heart and almost killed him, so Byakuya had more than enough grounds to think the worst. But, he'd never been anything but helpful towards Ichigo. Even if some of his 'help' had been so obscure it'd gotten Ichigo into trouble.

Like the thing about Aizen's zanpakutō. "You've seen it too, haven't you," Ichigo demanded. 

" _That's_ all the thanks I get?" Ichimaru retorted. "No, thank you, Ichimaru-taichō, for saving my little sister's life and bringing her here-"

"Yeah, thanks. I owe you," Ichigo put in, standing up properly now the shock had worn off, and adjusting Yuzu's weight in his arms. She was definitely asleep. Glancing between her and Zangetsu, now curled on the floor at his feet, he frowned. How the hell was he going to carry them both? Maybe he could let Zangetsu demanifest and do it that way. Or try and wake Yuzu?

 _I would not recommend doing either,_ Ossan replied, just as Ichimaru said, "Ya don't owe me anything," with more bite than seemed appropriate. Ichigo gave him a startled look as he continued, "And before ya think about trying to wake her up, I wouldn't. She's been well and truly brainwashed by that medic ya told me about. Thinks the sun shines out, ya know."

Ah, so this was in payment for letting Ichimaru know about Tsukishima. Ichigo nodded in understanding. "I gotcha. Thanks anyway."

"Don't thank me, just take yourself off and don't come back," Ichimaru said. "There ain't no place fer ya here, and never was."

Shit, here went the mood whiplash again. Unstable, thy name was Ichimaru Gin. "Fine. You got any ideas where I should go, because I can't take them back to the Senzaikyū," Ichigo snapped in reply, pointing at Yuzu and Zangetsu.

For the first time Ichimaru seemed to notice Zangetsu. He cocked his head and those strange eyes flickered open for a brief second. "That yours?" he asked, all traces of the aggression from before gone from his voice.

"Err…" Ichigo havered. He didn't exactly want to admit to having a hollow inside his soul, but he couldn't exactly deny it either.

"Handy, if it is. Havin' a pair of eyes with ya that ain't seen a certain someone's shikai."

Ichigo blinked. He'd never thought of that. Did it even work that way? He had no idea, but the next time he caught up with that creep Urahara, he was going to damn well ask. In the meantime… 

He opened his mouth to give some kind of excuse, but Ichimaru waved him away before he could answer. "Nah, don't tell me. That way, I don't have nothing to deny when they come askin'."

"Why would they ask?" Ichigo replied. "No one knows about it except Urahara and he's the one who did it to me." And screw worrying about getting Urahara in trouble. If he hadn't wanted Ichigo to spill, he should've been honest about his reasons.

Ichimaru's voice verged on strident when he answered, "They'll come, Ichigo-kun, for the same reason that they ain't here right now. 'Cause they're all out there tryin' ta find the hollow that helped Bya-kun break half of Seireitei and left Kurotsuchi in a bucket."

"He's not dead?" Ichigo blurted.

Again, Ichimaru's eyes slitted open. He stared at Ichigo for a long second before saying, "Ya not very bright, are ya." 

Ichigo snapped his mouth shut. Shit. Asking that had totally given away that he'd been the hollow. Still, it was disappointing to find out Kurotsuchi was still alive.

"Whatcha doing carryin' it around anyhow?" Ichimaru asked, gesturing towards Zangetsu. "Somethin' gone wrong?"

So much wrong. Ichigo dragged his thoughts back from the thing Byakuya had become to say, "Sort of. It's to do with Tsukishima."

Ichimaru made a hissing sound. "That one's getting too big for his boots," he said. "Needs to get taken down a peg or two."

"If you can find a way of doing it, go for it," Ichigo replied. "As far as I can tell, he's got his claws into half the Gotei."

"That literal or metaphorical?" Ichimaru asked.

Ichigo did a double take. "Erm… metaphorical, I guess, unless there's something about him I don't know."

Ichimaru nodded like Ichigo had told him something useful. "That's alright then." He turned and seemed about to walk away when he paused and said, "Home, that's where ya need to go."

"The Shiba estate? I don't think-"

"Not there," Ichimaru interrupted. "Where ya came from. The living world. You'll be safe there."

That was actually the best idea Ichigo had heard all day, to go and find Renji and see if he knew what had happened to Byakuya, except, "I can't. I'd need a senkaimon, and no way is the Gotei letting me use theirs." Or any of the ones in Seireitei. He glanced towards the north gate. It wouldn't be easy getting out but… "I guess I could head out to the Kyōraku estate." That's where he'd sent Karin and Chad.

Hang on, Yuzu was supposed to be with them! How'd they got separated? Ichimaru was saying something. Ichigo talked straight over the top of him. "Where did you find Yuzu?"

Ichimaru stopped. "Didn't I say? She was at the 13th with your friend the medic. Seems he's been made lieutenant there." 

Tsukishima, fukutaichō of the 13th! Surely Tōsen wasn't that desperate. Or had he been brain-washed too? 

"And here was everyone thinking Izuru-kun would get the honour," Ichimaru continued.

Not desperate then. Crap. Was no one safe from the guy?

"And ya might want to think again about tryin' fer the Kyōraku estate," Ichimaru was saying. "He had a meeting with the old man just after New Year and hung up his haori. Retired to the country. Lisa-chan's in charge at the 8th now."

"Yadomaru has bankai?" That was the first Ichigo had heard. Wasn't Byakuya supposed to have a record of all of them in that book of his?

Ichimaru's smile crept wider. "All kinds of people got bankai that you ain't heard about."

That was… terrifying actually. But believable. Having bankai as a seated officer made you as much a sitting duck as a captain without one, so it made all kinds of sense for people to keep schtum about it. Renji had until he'd been forcibly outed by that disaster at the 12th.

But the implications of Kyōraku retiring stretched way further than some unknown bankai. With Ukitake gone, Ichigo under arrest and the 2nd in Urahara's hands, Kyōraku had been the last of the noble captains. That nightmare of having nowhere to run for protection that the Kuchiki auntie had been so worried about during the meeting was starting to look more and more likely. 

Ice crept up Ichigo's spine. No wonder Yoruichi had done what she had here at the 7th. She was sending a message alright, but not about revenge. She was telling everyone that the onmitsukidō would protect the nobility with everything it had, against _anyone_ who dared to move against them, even a Gotei captain. 

So much for the onmitsukidō being a neutral force. Hirako was going to go apeshit, and if his revolution kicked off… "What about the 6th?" Ichigo demanded.

Ichimaru spread his palms and answered like he'd been expecting exactly that question. "Keepin' themselves to themselves, much like the 3rd. Though there's been some fretting about the fukutaichō's methods."

Soifon. Of course, Hanatarō had said she was handling the day to day stuff. Ichigo didn't like Soifon, but she was loyal to Yoruichi and he was pretty sure Yoruichi wouldn't let anything too bad happen to the 6th. She'd be able to keep the Kuchiki safe from there too. Crossing the 6th off his list of things to worry about, Ichigo scrubbed a hand through his hair. "So how the hell do I get to the living world?" And where were Chad and Karin?

No, he had to trust them to look after themselves. Likewise Hanatarō and Hisagi. Right now, Yuzu and Zangetsu were his priority.

Tucking both his hands back into his sleeves, Ichimaru said, "There is an option, but you ain't gonna like it."

"Right now, I'll pretty much take anything," Ichigo replied. He was naked, half-starved and trapped in the middle of a square mile of dead bodies. He wasn't in a position to be picky.

"Your family used ta own a mine out in sixth-south."

"Ginzan, yeah, I've been there." Was in the process of buying it back, even. Had that gone through while he was in the Senzaikyū?

Ichimaru nodded. "What ya don't know is that it used ta be a bolt hole for 'em."

Having been to the 'house' up in third north where Ganju first took Ryūken and Uryū, Ichigo had no trouble believing there was something similar at Ginzan.

"And down in the bottom of it, there's a way through," Ichimaru continued.

"A senkaimon?"

"Not as such." 

Ichigo waited, because there had to be more to that statement than Ichimaru was giving, and he was getting a lot better at letting silences fill themselves. Finally, with the slightest of wry nods, Ichimaru continued, "It's an ansenkaimon, a Shiba invention that stabilises the flows in the dangai when it opens. Central banned 'em but ya family din't want to be bothered with butterflies and such if they were in a hurry."

But if they'd had an escape route like that, why hadn't they used it when Central came for them?

For once Ichimaru gave him the answer without having to be asked. "Course, ta use it, ya gotta get out of Seireitei, but I guess they never figured that into their plans."

Out of Seireitei. That was another thing. With no papers, and no clothes, how the hell was he going to manage even that?

"But then, none of 'em ever thought ta ask me. If they had of, I might 'ave been able to help."

But he would only help if asked, or in repayment of a favour owed. "What'll cost me if I do?" Ichigo asked.

Ichimaru's smile widened. "Now ya gettin' it," he said. Then, quicker than Ichigo could follow, Ichimaru was right there in front of him, so close that Yuzu was squashed between them. And his eyes were open, shining like a bright blue jewel. "I don't care who ya kill and how many've got ta pay. That last strike, the one that sends Aizen out of this world and on to the next, that's mine. Promise me."

Ichigo didn't even stop to think. "It's a deal," he said. "Now get me the hell out of Seireitei."

*

Getting out of Seireitei involved kidō cloth and a bakudō Ichigo had never even heard of, let alone used. Ichimaru seemed familiar with it though. Incanting under his breath, he whipped the long length of bandage-like cloth around them like one of those gymnasts with a ribbon until the world outside was nothing but a series of disconnected glimpses. Then he released the kidō. Reiatsu pulsed and fluctuated. For the briefest second, Ichigo felt weightless, disconnected from everything, and then he was back, Zangestu still at his feet, Yuzu in his arms. But the ground beneath them had changed. Gone was the charred earth of the 7th's ruined quad. Now he was standing on winter yellow grass that was wet and cold under his bare feet. But at least it wasn't snowing.

"Yer not far, I'm afraid," Ichimaru said, as the kidō cloth fell away revealing the edge of a forest and a ridge of mountains that looked very familiar. "North two, which is probably further east than ya woulda liked. But if ya cut across-"

"I know how to get there," Ichigo replied, eager to be gone. 

Ichimaru levelled a look at him. "I was gonna say there's a village half a mile that way if ya cut across the forest, since ya might want ta steal yerself some clothes before ya go gallivanting off across half of Rukongai."

Clothes, right. He'd been wandering around mostly butt-naked for so long, he'd forgotten he was only wearing the loincloth he'd lashed up from Hanatarō's yukata. 

"And ya gonna need this." Ichimaru pulled something from his shihakushō. 

The Shiba tanto! Ichigo almost dropped Yuzu grabbing for it and ended up propping her against his shoulder so he could could grasp it properly. Hardly daring to breathe, he ran trembling fingers over the worn leather sheath before drawing the blade and holding it up. It was fine, whole and sharp, glinting a pale white in the moonlight as it had ever since Ossan had moved into it. Ichigo closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as power start to flow from it to him and back again, buzzing like the circulation returning to a trapped limb. Inside him, Ossan seemed to flex and grow, becoming more solid, and Ichigo was fairly certain he didn't imagine the whispered, _Thank you_. 

Taking a deep breath, he slid the blade back into its sheath before raising his eyes to Ichimaru. "Where did you get this?" he demanded. It should have been safely under lock and key at the 2nd.

"Came with ya sister," Ichimaru replied blandly and turned away, lifting the kidō cloth. He was leaving. If Ichigo was going to say anything, he had to say it now. 

'Thank you,' would be good, or even, 'why are you being so helpful, I thought you hated me?' But, with the Shiba tanto clutched in his hand, what actually came out was the same question Ichigo had asked the first time they'd met, "Did he do it? My dad. Did he really kill all those Kuchiki?"

For a moment Ichimaru didn't move, then his arm lowered and so did his chin. But not so he could do his usual thing of taking someone apart with a barbed truth. This time, he seemed to be thinking. After a moment, he looked up. "I'll ta ya exactly what I told Central afterwards when they dragged me in fer questioning," he said. 

"I was up late doin' paperwork when I felt him heading towards the estate. He was agitated, his reiatsu weren't as tight as shoulda been, so I went out to meet him. Soon as I saw him, I knew he'd been in a fight; he was covered in blood, and his haori was all over in tatters. He was shaking, and when I asked him 'Taicho, what's happened', he told me, 'I killed 'em, Gin. I killed Byakuya-kun's dad and his uncle. What am I gonna do?' So I said to him, 'But that's treason, taichō.' And he just looked at me."

Lifting the kidō cloth again, Ichimaru shrugged. "Then he went through the senkaimon to the living world and left the rest of us ta pick up the pieces. End o' story. Now, if ya don't mind, Shiba-kun, I got a division of me own to run, so take care now. Bye, bye." The cloth whirled and the next moment, Ichimaru was gone, leaving nothing behind him but a dent in the grass.

Ichigo stared at it for a long moment before asking silently, _Do you think he did it?_ Because that story sounded the same as what Ichimaru had said last time and that wasn't going to help getting Dad out of Muken.

 _I think the fox is as wily with his words as he is with his promises,_ Ossan replied. Then added, _If clothing is all you need, I may be able to help now I have access to the tanto again._

Wily with his words, eh? Ichigo was going to have to think about that one. But in the meantime, he did need to get going. The trip out to Ginzan wasn't going to be easy. Though more comfortable if he had clothes. _Sure you can spare the energy?_ he asked, just to be sure.

 _The ghost is much calmed since the pair of you left,_ Ossan replied. _It sits outside the bubble and watches._

Waiting for Zangetsu to get back, Ichigo assumed, 'cause it definitely seemed to be Zangetsu that Byakuya was after rather than Ossan. Which meant it was probably a Quincy/shinigami thing. Reassured, Ichigo lowered Yuzu carefully to the ground beside Zangetsu.

 _I am as much a part of your soul as the hollow is, Ichigo,_ Ossan retorted, sounding a bit hurt. 

Ichigo shot him a silent apology. _I know you are. I didn't mean it like that._ As he spoke, he stepped away from Yuzu and Zangetsu and got ready to manifest, already slightly distracted. If he couldn't send Zangetsu back to his inner world, he was going to have to find some way of carrying them both.

A few minutes later, finally fully clothed, Ichigo managed to wake Zangetsu enough to get him up into a piggy back ride and picked Yuzu up again. As he settled her into his arms, Zangetsu made a sleepy noise in his ear and muttered, "She's cute."

Ichigo side-eyed him, catching half-mast gold just visible under a mop of pure white hair. "She's also my sister, idiot."

"Yeah, so?"

Ichigo shook his head in fond amusement. "This is why hollows should stay out of real people business," he retorted, stepping into a slow shunpo that he could keep up for hours if necessary. 

As the wind whipped past his face, he heard Zangetsu murmur, "'M as real as you are, king."

*

They'd just hit the northern shoreline of the massive inland sea when Ichigo noticed they had a tail. Picking up speed he stretched his reiatsu out behind him, trying to catch who it was, but all he got was a slippery sense of pale green, which was almost familiar though Ichigo couldn't remember where from. The only thing he knew for sure was that it wasn't Yoruichi, because her reiatsu was a sparking white, or invisible if she was in cat form. Nor was it Soifon, who was golden yellow. Though it could be one of their ninja, or more than one.

That was a happy thought.

Kicking off into a sprint, Ichigo managed to keep up the higher pace for a few spirit miles before his belly cramped with hunger. He dropped back to normal speed, grinding his teeth in frustration as his stomach kept rumbling. He'd thought that problem was fixed after getting the tanto back. Apparently not. Eating something would be good, except there wasn't a scrap of food to be had out here in Rukongai unless he fancied hitting up one of the outlying way-stations for supplies, and that wasn't gonna happen. They'd report him to Seireitei in a heartbeat. He could maybe try absorbing reishi from his surroundings… No. That might work if he wasn't being chased, but no way could he risk it while shunpo'ing and definitely not with Yuzu in his arms. He might accidentally take from her as well.

His stomach rumbled again, the hunger pangs sharp and acute.

Really, at this point, he had no choice. It was either keep going until he accidentally ate his sister. Or stop now while he still had the energy and face whoever was coming after them. Ha, with luck it was an enemy and he'd be able to take a nibble out of them instead. If Zangetsu was awake, he might even offer him a bite too.

Against his shoulder, Zangetsu stirred but showed no signs of waking. Wherever he decided to stop, Ichigo was going to have to make sure both he and Yuzu were safely away from any potential battle.

He found something promising a few miles further on. A wooded hillside swept down almost to the sea and beyond it stretched a wide slow-moving river full of islets and channels. If he left Zangetsu and Yuzu in the woods, he could use the terrain to draw whoever it was further away and ambush them. 

Ichigo set down and carefully unloaded his precious cargo into the lee of a large fallen conifer. The ground was damp, so he lay Yuzu against Zangetsu's chest to keep her as warm and dry as possible. She sighed in her sleep and curled closer to the zanpakutō spirit who, in turn, moved his head so his face rested against her hair. Ichigo smiled. Maybe the contrary bastard wasn't so bad after all. 

Stepping back, he carefully incanted a kengara, the highest level bakudō he knew. The bright white cocoon shield that shivered into place around the sleeping pair wasn't hugely strong, but it should be enough to keep them safe from any crossfire, if not from a visual search. That was what the tree was for. And anyway, there was no reason for anyone to go looking. Yuzu's reiatsu signature was tiny and Zangetsu was so drained he was hardly releasing any at all. In the knowledge that they were as secure as he could make them, Ichigo withdrew onto one of the bushy islands to wait. 

Only a couple of minutes later, a figure surrounded by a nimbus of pale green reiatsu stepped out of shunpo between the woods and the river's edge. Ichigo squinted, trying to make out who it was, but it was a losing battle in the darkness. If he wanted to see better, he'd have to up his reiatsu output, which would be the equivalent of flicking a light on over his head. Then again, wasn't that the plan anyway? There wasn't much point trying to attract attention if you didn't, you know, attract attention.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Ichigo raised his reiatsu level until the riverbank was as clear as it would have been in daylight. There, perched on a rock was… a heavily cloaked figure. Ichigo sighed. He still didn't recognise who it was. Maybe he should cut out all the guess work and just ask.

With another flare of reiatsu, this one more challenge than notification, Ichigo stepped out from behind the bushes and yelled, "Okay, I've had it with this. Either quit following me or tell me who you are."

In response, a familiar lick of reiatsu dragged up Ichigo's spine. He shuddered. Yoruichi? No, that reiatsu was all wrong, and anyway if it was her, she'd have revealed herself already. Ichimaru then? Though why would the guy follow him all the way out here after he'd said he was going back to his division? 

Ichigo was still trying to figure it out when the person dropped their hood. 

Ayasegawa Yumichika smirked at him across the placid water. "Greetings, Shiba-kun," he called, smoothing a hand through his dark hair. "I'm glad you finally decided to stop. All that running around is really not beautiful."

Ichigo could only stare at him in utter shock. This was the guy who'd been licking him? But that had been happening on and off since he got his captaincy. Ayasegawa must have been stalking him for months! And all this time, Ichigo had thought it was Yoruichi. How had he not known?

Apparently taking his stunned silence for some kind of response, Ayasegawa flipped his cloak back to reveal his sword and continued, "I've been sent after you with a message. You've taken something that doesn't belong to you. Return it and you're free to go. Refuse and I have been ordered to stop you." 

Ichigo's brain finally sat up and took notice because that sounded like Ayasegawa was working for someone else. But who? The obvious answer was his current captain, Madarame Ikkaku, but Ichigo couldn't think of a thing he might have that that guy might want. Ayasegawa's old captain on the other hand…

As the penny dropped, Ichigo's eyes automatically flicked to the hillside behind Ayasegawa, because it had to be Yuzu! She wasn't Unohana's as such, but the kenpachi had enough of a claim that, now Ichigo wasn't in a position to defend her, she might try to take Yuzu back.

Without stopping to second guess himself, Ichigo stepped into shunpo in the exact opposite direction to where he'd stashed his sister, his only thought to get Ayasegawa as far from her as possible whilst still being able to find her again when the fight was over. The left bank of the river wasn't far enough, but he touched down there anyway, flaring his reiatsu and, a heartbeat later felt Ayasegawa following. Another step and he was further inland. Another and he was further still. He kept going, zig-zagging back and forth across the tree-lined river until he finally found a clearing with enough solid ground to give him room to manoeuvre. Only then did he stop to face his accuser. 

He didn't have to wait long before Ayasegawa stepped out of shunpo, leaf litter rustling beneath his feet as he landed, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Oh, I do so hope this means you're going to stop running and actually fight," he purred, drawing his sword.

Ichigo glanced at it trying to remember what it did. The details had probably been in one of his lessons, Byakuya was finicky like that, but they'd been as boring as hell and he'd always ended up zoning. Right now though, having some information would be kind of useful in case he was about to get a face-full of acid or something. 

For a long second Ayasegawa didn't move and Ichigo was starting to think he was going to be spared finding out, when no other warning than a surge of reiatsu, the sword curved into a sickle shape and split into four prongs. 

Ah, now he remembered; Ayasegawa's zanpakutō was a reiatsu leech, like Yamada's but minus the insta-kill. The bastard had used it on little Yachiru when he and Madarame had taken the 10th.

A second later the blades shimmered again, transforming into blue-green strands of reishi that split and stretched and wove through the air like some kind of fast-forwarded movie of a growing plant. Ichigo leapt back several paces. Vines, right, and every one of them with the potential to drain reiatsu, which meant fighting Ayasegawa without a sword was going to be next to impossible. 

Or was it.

Ichigo frowned, standing his ground as the vines shot towards him. As the first one came close, he parried it, using shō to break free when it tried to latch on. _Ossan?_ he queried, dodging the rest and hoping the Quincy spirit could read his intent. 

_I see no reason why it should not work,_ Ossan replied.

So, rather than fend off the next vine that approached, Ichigo grabbed it and 'sucked'. Reishi collapsed under his palm just as it did when he absorbed a barrier kidō, disintegrating into nothingness. He went for another, which did the same, but as he reached for a third, the rush hit him. Ichigo's head spun from what felt like a massive surge of adrenalin and for a second he thought he was going to fall over. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut on a gasp and forced himself to grab for next lot of vines. No way he could let Ayasegawa know what was happening, not if he wanted to keep his abilities a secret. 

But the vines had whipped away. Struggling to focus, Ichigo turned his head trying to work out where they'd gone. Thirty metres away across muddy grass and leaf litter apparently, and were now bracketing Ayasegawa with gently weaving greenery. As their eyes met, Ayasegawa's usual superior sneer morphed into a beatific smile. "So you do still have your Quincy powers," he said, "With all that ugly running round I was starting to fear the worst." He raised his fingers to his lips and licked delicately across their tips. "How exquisite. I cannot wait to taste you, Quincy boy."

Creepy shit aside, if Ayasegawa already knew what Ichigo was, there was no point pretending he was anything else. And anyway, Ichigo always had been crap at hiding his feelings. An answering grin blossomed across Ichigo's face and he waggled his fingers at Ayasegawa. "In your dreams, shinigami. Now, bring it."

The vines shot forward again. Ichigo met them with a whoop, sucking up more reishi and this time riding the high instead of fighting against it. He could do this. He could totally beat Ayasegawa into the ground with only his bare hands then rescue Yuzu and get out to Ginzan - 

Blood spattered onto the back of his hand. Between attacks, Ichigo swiped at his face. His nose was bleeding. And that wasn't all. In his excitement he'd not noticed how hard his heart was hammering in his chest, nor the fact that his brain felt like it was about to explode out the top of his head. 

Too much reishi, it had to be, combined with no way to get rid of it fast enough.

Kidō. That might help. 

Rather than grab the next lot of vines, Ichigo extended a finger and gabbled an incantation. Byakurai exploded from it, carving through the vines like a hot knife through butter. More snaked into place behind them and he released another, this time without the spell. It helped, definitely, but it wasn't enough. His wrists were blistering and his shihakushō was already starting to smoke from the excess reiatsu bleeding off him. There was so much of it that Ayasegawa wouldn't need to touch him to leech it up, which meant his levels weren't going to drop either. This was a war of attrition, and considering Ichigo didn't have shikai to call on as back-up, it was one he wasn't going to win. Not without Zangetsu to fix his weakening body.

As yet another growth of vines shot towards him, Ichigo sent a desperate plea into his inner world. _Ossan! Help!_

_You must not dematerialise the hollow!_ Ossan replied urgently. _I will do what I can to prevent any more damage. In the meantime, use the tanto._

Ichigo squinted for a second. Hakuda and kidō were a lot easier with empty hands and he had no clue how to fight with a knife. Byakuya had never covered that, which was why Ichigo had stuck with barehanded fighting. That was one of Byakuya's favourite training scenarios. 

Memories of the three of them spending hours honing their skills together returned with a painful jolt. Would he ever get to spar with Byakuya again? Or was he really dead. And what about Renji. Had he gone the same way?

No, this wasn't the time to be distracted. 

With effort, Ichigo dragged his mind back from shark teeth and dead black eyes, to focus on the tanto. Ossan didn't normally suggest things without a good reason, but Ichigo couldn't figure what using the tanto now would gain him.

Drawing the long knife from its sheath inside his shihakushō, Ichigo slashed awkwardly at the incoming vines. Rather than grip onto the blade and rip it from his hand like he'd expected, the vines parted around it, withering away just like they had when he touched them with his hand.

 _What the hell?_ Ichigo asked, slashing again. This time, as the vines withered, the tanto glowed brightly for a brief moment before returning to its more usual white.

_Since the blade is a Quincy weapon, it can also absorb reishi._

Awesome.

Ichigo set about himself with increased enthusiasm. Armed, he could do more than just defend. He could actually attack. The tanto was faster and more efficient than his hands and, as more and more vines vanished from in front of his blade, he pushed forward, his goal now fixed in his mind. If he wanted to win, he couldn't just destroy the vines, he needed to eliminate the person controlling them.

Byakurai shot from his fingertips, brighter than usual, carving routes through the vines that vanished a second later but at least showed him where his target was standing. He kept coming, throwing everything he had ahead of him, conscious of the glancing touches of vines along torso and legs, like they were trying to grab him but couldn't quite work out where or how.

Finally a pale face appeared before him. Ichigo pointed a finger, direct and point blank. Ayasegawa's eyes widened and he dodged, but not fast enough. And in the wrong direction. Ichigo brought the tanto up, aiming for the thin skin across Ayasegawa's throat. Hot blood sprayed across Ichigo's face and in a heartbeat Ayasegawa was gone. 

Ichigo landed, tanto up and gaze narrowing. Further back in the woods, almost hidden by the trees and darkness, something moved. He shot towards it, eager to press the advantage while he still had it. Sure enough Ayasegawa was there, vines curling around him protectively. Ichigo went for him, tanto out, ready to finish things, only this time it was his turn to get face full of kidō. The tenran threw him backwards, demolishing several trees before Ichigo smacked into a solid one and slid down it, coming to rest amongst the roots with stars flashing in front of his eyes. Right, Ayasegawa could do high level kidō without the incantations. Good to know.

By the time Ichigo got back, Ayasegawa had his sword hilt under one arm and fingers glowing with healing kidō pressed to his neck. Blood trickled over them, enough to redden the collar of his shitagi but not for the injury to be fatal or incapacitating unfortunately. 

When he saw Ichigo, his expression turned furious. "That was not beautiful!" he spat, lowering his hand. A livid scar now ran from the base of his neck to his ear. Ichigo had been closer than he thought.

"I was aiming to take your head off so I'd be grateful if I was you!" Ichigo called back, trying not to laugh. The way the guy was reacting you'd think no one had ever fought back before. 

"Hmm, gloat if you want. You'll not get another chance." One of the vines darted towards Ayasegawa. He caught it with a bloody hand and snapped the tip off. "In fact, I should probably thank you. Ruri'iro kujaku gets very enthusiastic when I bleed, which means I'll have no problems doing this." With a quick flick of the wrist, he threw the piece of vine right at Ichigo's face.

Ichigo dodged, smirking. "If that was supposed to hit me, you missed," he called, but Ayasegawa was already reaching for another vine. 

"Who said it was supposed to hit you," he said. 

Ichigo spun, tanto out, and still only just caught the cluster of vines shooting towards him from behind. He slashed across them, cutting down about half, but more were growing, and it wasn't the only clump. Ayasegawa had tossed out half a dozen 'cuttings' by now and every one of them was sending up shoots.

Crap! He'd had enough problems taking out one lot. This was going to be impossible. He dodged, slashing at what he could and quick-launching kidō at the rest. Shō, byakurai, he even tried a tsuzuri raiden in the hopes the electricity would reach Ayasegawa before it grounded out. It didn't. The current exploded the single vine it touched and three more grew in its place.

Then the tanto glowed white and stayed that way.

 _Ossan?_ Ichigo asked worriedly when nothing changed after the next attack.

 _There is a limit to what even this noble blade can absorb,_ Ossan replied. _You must finish this fight, Ichigo, and fast._

It was times like this that Ichigo wished he was like Byakuya, able to cast danku without the incantation. Unfortunately he wasn't, but that didn't stop him from using higher level hado. Sticking his tanto between his teeth, crosswise like a pirate, Ichigo aimed two hands at an cluster of vines and yelled, "Shakkahō!" or at least tried to. It came out a bit odd which probably explained why the fiery ball looked more like a lumpy potato and spun off sideways. Still, it took a massive chunk out of the incoming vines, and bought him time to gabble out the incantation for a haien. That slammed into one of the offshoot growths that Ayasegawa had seeded and obliterated it in an explosion of purple flame. Finally, something that looked like progress. He just had to keep going.

Shakkahō again, cutting through vines like a flame thrower. Ayasegawa was on the other side of this lot and if he could just- 

Scarlet flame roared back into Ichigo's face as Ayasegawa yelled, "Bakudō 39, enkosen." It was too late to dodge. All he could do was slam up both hands and suck up as much of the kidō as he could. It burnt like the hottest vindaloo going down and Ichigo couldn't help wondering if it'd be the same coming out again. His soukatsui definitely looked pink-tinged when he cast it, but that might just have been the stress talking.

After that, he had no idea what he cast, or whether it landed. He was merely a reiryoku processing machine, absorbing reishi as fast as he could so as to throw it back out again in gouts of flame and streams of lightning. Barriers sprung up everywhere. Ichigo went after them almost as greedily as he took the vines, the tanto forgotten as he fought to balance the twin streams of power coursing through him. Quincy and shinigami, working in tandem.

When something grabbed his ankles and yanked him off his feet, his first instinct was to obliterate them with kidō. Only some higher sense of self-preservation kicking in made him resort to the tanto at the last second, carving through vine rather than flesh and using his other hand to fend off the rest that were trying to take advantage. The first vine parted easily beneath his blade, as did the few after that, but more kept coming. Too many more. He was being overwhelmed and from all directions. Pinned down. Vines crawled up his back to circle his neck, and up inside his hakama around his knees. He could feel them all getting a grip, his reiatsu beginning to drain. In a moment they'd have him completely and then he'd be screwed. There had to be something he could do!

The tanto suddenly bounced off the next vine, slipping from his grasp as another finally snagged his right wrist, binding it fast. Ichigo cursed and thrashed as they stretched him out. _What the fuck!_ he yelled silently at Ossan. _Why did it stop working?_ He hadn't broken it. He couldn't have have. Not his dad's tanto!

_Stop panicking. These attacks cannot harm you now._

_What?_ Ichigo stopped fighting and focused. It wasn't easy because his instincts were still demanding that he defend himself, but Ossan was right. The vines had him wrapped head to toe but they weren't sucking his reiatsu any longer. _How?_

_The same way I was able to stop Kurotsuchi from drugging you: blut vene. It creates an impermeable reishi barrier between you and the outside world._

Useful. Ichigo kind of wished he knew more about this Quincy stuff. _So how come the tanto stopped working?_ he asked.

 _Because that requires a form of blut arterie, which cannot be used contemporaneously with blut vene._

Ichigo gave that some thought. _It's an either or?_

 _Correct._

Another thought, this one not so happy. _So I'm stuck in these vines with no way to fight back._ Meaning there was nothing stopping Ayasegawa from grabbing Yuzu and doing a runner.

 _He cannot take her away from here without releasing you. Have patience and wait for an opening._

Patience, never Ichigo's strongest suit. But what choice did he have.

"Do you concede?" Ayasegawa asked. Or at least Ichigo assumed it was him. It wasn't like he could see anything right now, wrapped up in vines from head to toe.

"Fuck off!" Ichigo replied. 

Silence for a second then, "I wonder if this ability of yours to resist Rui'iro kujaku extends to physical damage. The vines around Ichigo flexed and a second later he was slammed into the ground hard enough to smack his teeth together with a loud clack.

 _Ow._

_I apologise. Blut vene can prevent structural damage but not pain._

If that was supposed to be comforting, it didn't work. Ichigo braced himself for the next one, and managed to avoid biting his tongue. The impact made his head ring though and he almost missed Ayasegawa saying, "Any second thoughts yet?"

Ichigo curled his lip. As if he'd give up so easily. "No!" he shouted, just to make sure he was heard. "And I told you to fuck off!" 

"That mouth of yours is really very ugly, Shiba-kun," Ayasegawa said. "Perhaps we should fill it with something."

That was not the sort of thing Ichigo liked hearing outside of some very specific circumstances. He wasn't overly keen on the vine that started working its way between his lips either. He kept them clamped shut, breathing in and out through his nose, until two more blocked off that option. Bastard was trying to suffocate him. 

_Ossan!_ Damn it, he needed to get a better grasp on his own abilities. Having to ask the Quincy spirit for help every time was getting embarrassing. 

Air was quickly becoming an issue. Ichigo fought the urge to open his mouth, but it was a fight he was destined to lose. Base instinct won, forcing his lips apart as he gasped desperately for air. He managed one breath before the vines plunged inside, filling his mouth and pushing to the back of his throat in a way that felt familiar and yet terrifyingly new because this time no one was going to stroke his hair and tell him it was okay. No one was going to let him up just as it all felt too much either. No one was going to save him and let him breathe.

Ichigo arched, his body trying to do what his lungs couldn't. His head pounded, his chest ached. His thoughts scattered and then coalesced into a single desperate thread. There had to be something he could do, some option, some twist, some way to turn this on its head and survive. 

As his sight darkened and his body went numb, he heard Ossan say, _I'm sorry, Ichigo. There is nothing I can do._

*

In all honesty, Ichigo hadn't expected to wake up, so opening his eyes to a star strewn sky was more than a bit of a surprise. The chill spring air sawing in and out of lungs was too, though not so much the vines twisted around his throat and limbs. He was still trapped, still a prisoner.

There'd been no reiatsu drain though, which was good. That blut vene thing must keep working even after you passed out. 

_That is correct. However there is a limit to how long it may be sustained even for you,_ Ossan replied. _It takes considerable power and your reserves are not limitless._

And if they dropped too low, he'd have no choice but to de-manifest Zangetsu, which would mean all of Ossan's powers would then be taken up defending the zanpakutō spirit from Byakuya. 

A sudden flare of pale green reiatsu close-by made Ichigo jerk and reopen eyes he hadn't realised had fallen closed again. Ayasegawa was there, and he wasn't alone. Two other shinigami stood beside him, but it was what they held slung between them that attracted all of Ichigo's attention. The cocoon kidō, with Yuzu's faint spark just perceptible through it alongside the heaviness that was Zangetsu.

Ayasegawa smirked. "Oh good, you're awake. Just in time for a family reunion." He gestured to the two shinigami, who lowered the cocoon to the ground near Ichigo before stepping back. A moment later and wham! A shakkahō slammed into the cocoon with absolutely no warning. 

"Yuzu!" Ichigo bellowed through the smoke, frantic and blinking away green afterimages to try and see if the cocoon had survived. It had, though crimson fire crackled across its surface, a sure sign that it wouldn't survive many more. Kengara was a solid kidō but it wasn't designed to take that kind of punishment. 

"So your sister is in there," Ayasegawa said, hands crossed in front of him ready to power up another. "We weren't entirely sure."

"Yeah, she's in there," Ichigo spat since there wasn't much point denying it. "And if you hurt her, I'll fucking kill you."

Ayasegawa lowered his hands and gave Ichigo a quizzical look. "Are you offering to release the kidō yourself then? It's the only alternative if you don't want me to destroy it."

That was true. One of the reasons Ichigo had used a kengara was because it was self-sustaining. Once created it didn't need the caster to be close, or even alive, to keep working. If Ayasegawa kept firing shakkahō at it, he might accidentally kill Yuzu when it failed. This had to be why he'd kept Ichigo alive.

"Or maybe I'll just take her back like this?" Ayasegawa paused and gave Ichigo a level look. "Did you know that everyone in Seireitei is in a tizzy at the moment? It's really not very beautiful. They're all searching for a hollow, you see. One that attacked the 12th and then went missing. Now," Ayasegawa said, pressing a finger to his chin, "What do you think they'll find if I take that kidō back to Seireitei and let them open it there?"

He could sense Zangetsu. Of course he could. To stalk Ichigo the way he had, his sensor abilities must be second only to a negator's. 

"Or, you could release it now, and you and your pet hollow can go on your merry way, no questions asked."

Ichigo didn't believe him for a second. Right now that kidō was the only thing keeping Zangetsu safe unless he returned to Ichigo's inner world. There was no such choice for Yuzu.

"No?" Ayasegawa was saying, raising his hands again. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to take the risk. I mean, how badly burned would she be if the kidō failed, really."

Incredibly badly. With no reiatsu to speak of, Yuzu's skin wouldn't have any protection. 

But to let her go. To deliberately release the kidō and hand her over to people who would twist her mind until it broke or execute her for a murder she didn't commit. 

Ichigo licked his lips. He couldn't do it. He couldn't not do it. Ayasegawa had him coming and going. There was no way to win this. 

As the second scarlet ball left Ayasegawa's hands, Ichigo choked back a cry. But the shakkahō never reached its target. Before it got halfway, an arrow made of pure white reishi sped out of the sky, piercing the kidō through the middle and obliterating it. A moment later more followed, dropping Ayasegawa's two shinigami helpers in their tracks and pinning them to the ground through limbs and torso as the air turned thick with projectiles. 

Ayasegawa himself was throwing up barriers, but not quickly enough. Some of the arrows were getting through, striking the ground near him and sending up billowing clouds of reishi. Then, almost invisible amongst the arrows, flew what looked like four small silver cannisters, followed by a familiar voice, "Strike, grail wind! Heizen!"

A block of light sprang up between the containers, slicing through the vines within and sending Ayasegawa flying backwards, his sword spinning from his hand. As he scrambled to recover it, Ryūken landed beside Ichigo. He was dressed in a shihakushō, carried a bright white bow the same height as he was tall and, all in all, was the most beautiful thing Ichigo had ever seen before in his life. Though, granted, he might be a little light-headed at having been rescued in the nick of time.

Ayasegawa glanced up, his eyebrows lifting as he took in Ryūken's appearance. "Despite your clothing, you are no shinigami," he said, starting to rise, "and that was like no kidō I've ever witnessed."

Ryūken loosed a single arrow that thunked into the ground millimetres from Ayasegawa's hand. "I would advise you not to move any further," he intoned.

Ayasegawa froze mid-movement, though he kept talking unfortunately. "I do believe you are a purebred Quincy. But where in all of Soul Society did you come from?"

"That is irrelevant. You will release my niece and nephew right now or I will destroy both your colleagues." He re-aimed his bow so it was pointing at the two shinigami who were staring at Ryuken like he'd just walked out of their worst nightmares, and all Ichigo could think was, 'you're looking at the wrong guy. Seriously.' 

"Them?" Ayasegawa was saying in a mortally offended tone. "You think you can control _me_ through ugly creatures like _that_?" He made a gesture as if to throw something away, only haien flew from his fingertips, obliterating both shinigami in bright purple fire. The next moment, the ground erupted, sending chunks of earth flying into the air, slamming into each other and sailing towards Ryūken, who cursed under his breath and loosed several arrows in Ayasegawa's general direction. It wouldn't be enough, Ichigo knew. Ayasegawa was too clever not to have prepared for that. 

Sure enough the arrows exploded yards from where they should have, clearing enough dust to reveal a barrier now stretching across most of the battlefield. On the other side of it stood Ayasegawa. Bruised and battered, he'd retrieved his sword at some point and, as Ichigo watched, he lifted it and smiled. "A real live Quincy. Now that is something too beautiful not to share."

His sword ripped apart, his reiatsu flaring high for a second before flattening like he was holding his breath. Then it exploded outward, five, ten times more powerful than before. Still trapped in the vines, Ichigo turned his head, closing his eyes to try and protect them from the reiatsu blast, the world outside turning into nothing but reiatsu drenched static. 

And through it, light but sure, echoed Ayasegawa's voice, "Bankai. Ruri'iro kujaku no gyokuza."


	25. Not One of the Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-canon character death. If you want to know who, check out the notes at the end.

Ichigo opened his eyes to find the world changed. Instead of being surrounded by what was left of a forest, he was crouched beside a wall that seemed to be woven from living vines. It wasn't just one wall either. All sides of him and the roof were built from the same shimmering green, enclosing Ichigo in a kind of huge oval-shaped box about the size of the arena the pit fighters fought in. The only break in the foliage around the walls was a couple of dozen lighter coloured pillars that looked like tree trunks but were made up of woodier vines all twisted together. 

After what Ichimaru had said about shinigami with bankai, this shouldn't have come as a surprise. It still did. 

Ichigo stood, warily looking around for Ayasegawa, aware of Ryūken doing the same only a few feet away, his bow held horizontally in front of him. 

"I have only ever read about bankai. How does this work?"

Good question. Byakuya had only released Senbonzakura kageyoshi once in Ichigo's presence, but the similarities between this and Slaughterscape were kind of unmissable. Were weapons going to start dropping off these walls too? He couldn't see any, but then Ayasegawa didn't use swords, he used the vines and they were everywhere, so who knew.

"I have no idea," he replied just as something fluttered at the other end of the 'arena'. It was a pair of huge fans made of peacock tail feathers and, as Ichigo watched, they fluttered again before folding back.

Ayasegawa emerged, his shihakushō morphed into a black open-fronted shirt-thing with a dark green skirt/pants combo. His bankai must be like Ichigo's, changing his clothing as well as his weapon. Ichigo smirked. The whole get-up was way more Aladdin-extra than shinigami, as well as over-dramatic as hell, what with the high-topped cream boots and orange-feathered turban. 

Half a dozen arrows arched towards Ayasegawa. He swept forwards, batting them aside with flicks of kidō that made his long sleeves flutter behind him like wings. "Welcome!" he cried, spinning on the spot. Black lines that reminded Ichigo of the seal the wizard had used on Renji spread across Ayasegawa's bare chest as, around the walls, more peacock-tail fans emerged from the trunk-like vines and snapped open, their eyes flickering with power. "Welcome one and all to The Throne of the Azure Peacock." 

Oh yeah, this was definitely taking drama to a whole new level. But that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. Ichigo glared at the fans suspiciously. "Watch it, Oji-san. I think that flicker's some kind of kidō."

Ryūken frowned. "They contain little to no attack potential, so some kind of bakudō, I would think."

He could tell that much from just looking? That had to be a Quincy thing. 

_Stability of reiatsu is often a good indicator of imminent attack,_ Ossan commented blandly, even though Ichigo hadn't actually asked for his help this time, and if they survived this clusterfuck, he was definitely getting some proper Quincy lessons. Ichigo was fed-up with having a load of abilities he had no clue how to use.

"But which type of bakudō?" Ryūken was saying, eyeing the feathers warily.

Ichigo couldn't help him there. Leaving his uncle to it, he switched his attention to Ayasegawa, who was watching them with an amused expression. His sword seemed to have totally disappeared, which was a new one on Ichigo even for bankai. Not that he was complaining. It should make the up-coming fight easier. And the quicker that was over, the happier Ichigo was going to be. All he wanted to do right now was recover his family and leave. 

But first he needed to find out where Yuzu was and that probably wasn't the kind of information Ayasegawa was going to give up easily. Which meant they needed to go on the attack.

 _Ossan,_ Ichigo said warningly as he stepped into shunpo. 

The blut vene reversing felt a bit like a flash of heat. As he touched down behind Ayasegawa's back, hands out-stretched, Ichigo felt it shoot through him and when he lunged forward it was with the absolute belief that this time his Quincy abilities would work to absorb whatever part of Ayasegawa he managed to touch. 

He hadn't reckoned on a shield. Azure blue and shimmering, it sprang up between him and his target before he could actually make contact and when he hit it, instead of collapsing under his Quincy powers, the barrier hit back harder and with extreme prejudice. Ichigo flew across the arena like a baseball heading for a home-run, collided with something that gave way under the impact and then smacked into something else that very definitely didn't.

"Ichigo!" Was that Ryūken yelling. He had to be worried to raise his voice that much. 

Waving his hand to prove he was still alive, Ichigo blinked away stars. That had hurt, though not as much as it might. The chill of blut vene had settled around him again. 

Somewhere not that far away, Ayasegawa's voice said flatly, "I would advise against trying that too often, Shiba-kun. Ruri'iro kujaku is very intolerant of bad behaviour in his throne room."

Ichigo's lip curled almost of its own accord and he rolled to his feet, spitting out a gob of blood. "Fuck your stupid peacock, what have done with my sister?"

Ayasegawa raised a judgemental eyebrow. "Your manners really are appalling," he said, then turned to face Ryūken, who'd just sent a flight of arrows streaking towards him. "But if you're so determined to focus on her, I'd suggest looking behind you."

Ichigo turned and almost tripped over a bush. He frowned, only then realising what he was seeing. It was the cocoon kidō, and it was absolutely smothered in vines, the woody kind as well as the growing ones. Without stopping to think about implications, Ichigo launched himself at them and started tearing. Behind him, Ryūken yelled again.

"I found Yuzu!" Ichigo bellowed back. "Keep him off me while I get her out!" Even if the vines weren't strong enough to crush the kidō, in bankai they might be able to absorb reiatsu through it.

 _Hurry,_ Ossan urged. _If their reiatsu is being drained, you must free the hollow._

For once, any mention of how bad it would be for Zangetsu to dematerialize was passed up. Ichigo heard it anyway. _Yeah, I kinda get that,_ he snapped. He was more worried about Yuzu. She didn't have that much reiatsu to start with and everyone needed some to keep them breathing. 

Ignoring the arrows thunking into the ground nearby and exploding kidō that sent showers of dirt down on top of him, Ichigo kept yanking on vines. The trouble was, the more he tore away, the more seemed to grow back in their place. They even tried growing up him too, twining up his arms and wrapping around him. He tore them off in handfuls before they got too dangerous, surprised that, even in bankai, they couldn't seem to absorb anything from him. Score one for Quincy blut vene. It would have been beyond dumb to have gone in to rescue Yuzu only to end up drained himself. 

The air around him soon grew warm and heavy with the scent of crushed greenery. Ichigo kept working, amazed at how much reiatsu Ayasegawa must have to keep producing more and more of the damned things. Surely the guy must be running low by now? 

_Ichigo._ It was Ossan again and the note of warning in his voice was unmistakable. 

Ichigo paused to take extra note of his surroundings. Ayasegawa was still mouthing off about how beautiful he was, proving to anyone who was listening that he was a complete dick…

Hang on. Anyone who was listening?

Ichigo's gaze shot to the feather fans and the jagged lines of kidō sketched up their centres. Now he remembered where he'd seen that pattern before, and added to Ayasegawa's brand new tattoos…

Shit! No wonder Ayasegawa didn't care about him trying to free Yuzu. This whole thing was just a holding action.

"Oji-san!" he yelled, temporarily abandoning the cocoon and scrambling to his feet.

Ryūken was over the other side of the arena, flushed, grubby and breathless, but still fighting. When Ichigo called, he looked up.

A few steps of shunpo was all it took to reach him. "We need to finish this," Ichigo told him grimly. "I worked out what the kidō in the feathers is. It's tenteikūra, or something like it, and the marks on his chest are part of it. It's letting him communicate with Seireitei."

What was left of Ryūken's colour blanched from his face but the look he flicked up at the fans was determined. "Then we must finish him off quickly," he said, and raised his bow. 

It flickered slightly, though several reishi arrows appeared and sped towards to Ayasegawa. This time, the 10th's lieutenant made no move to avoid them. He stood there, arms open, as if waiting to be hit. 

The arrows never reached him. 

Halfway between bow and target, they disintegrated, falling into showers of reishi that fell like sparks, winking out before they hit the ground. Ryūken loosed more, and these didn't even make it that far. Ayasegawa was coming towards them, a smirk on his face, surrounded like he always was by that poisonous green reiatsu. 

That he still had enough of it to be doing that was impossible. Unless…

"Oji-san, are you using blut vene?" Ichigo asked quietly, taking in Ryūken's pale face and heavy breathing.

"I am now," Ryūken replied, "However, I think it may be too late." In his hands, the bow guttered and died.

Ichigo swallowed. Now he got what Ayasegawa's bankai did. It created a zone, alright, they were standing in it, and everything inside it would end up drained of reiatsu unless they took precautions. 

But the bad news didn't stop there. _Ichigo, the hollow is waking!_

Even as Ossan spoke, a scream rang out across the arena. 

Yuzu! That was the thing Ichigo forgotten when he put them in the same cocoon. If their reiatsu got too low, Zangetsu wouldn't just dematerialize, he'd wake up first, and he would be starving.

 _Ichigo, no!_

Another scream and no matter what Ossan said, Ichigo had no fucking choice, not if he wanted his sister to live. He yanked the heart out of the cocoon kidō, feeling it collapse as Zangetsu vanished from the real world. Immediately a flash of heat shot through Ichigo's body as blut vene failed and he stagger-stepped into shunpo, the sudden drag on his reiatsu enough to screw up his timing. 

He arrived on the other side of the arena just a moment too late. "Yuzu!" he yelled as the vines took her, screaming and struggling, across the arena floor and up the wall.

"Nii-chan!" she screamed, eyes terrified, arms reaching for him even as the vines covered her in a writhing mass of green.

Ichigo lunged after her, vines disintegrating beneath his touch as their reishi got absorbed into his body, but not enough of them. Never enough. More erupted in their wake. Ichigo kept tearing, ripping them away, pulling them apart, spending half a lifetime it felt like with his lungs full of heavy green-scented air. His breath sobbed in his throat, his hands shook, but he kept going, _had_ to keep going. Yuzu was in there. Yuzu was trapped. Yuzu- 

"If you're worried about your sister, she's inside the walls and perfectly safe."

The voice came from close enough that Ichigo startled, spinning round and ending up on his ass in an undignified sprawl. Ayasegawa smirked down at him. Ichigo snarled and tried to rise, but it wasn't happening. His reiatsu was suddenly stupidly low. His head reeled. 

"Your uncle, on the other hand," Ayasegawa continued, turning away, "is not doing do well."

Ichigo followed his gaze. At the other end of the arena, Ryūken was down on one knee, head bowed, ribs heaving. Ayasegawa was right, he looked exhausted. And with his bow gone, if Ayasegawa attacked, he'd be totally defenceless. Ichigo had to do something. Ryūken had come to save him, no way could Ichigo let him get killed. But moving was seriously not an option. He could hardly even breathe.

_Ossan, I need your help._

_I am sorry, Ichigo, but there is nothing I can do right now._ The Quincy spirit sounded strained. Of course he did. He was trying to defend Zangetsu from Byakuya. Ichigo was on his own.

Digging his fingers into the dirt, he started absorbing reishi as quickly as he could. He might not be able to beat Ayasegawa's bankai that way, but if he could stay conscious and hold Ayasegawa's interest for long enough, Ryūken might be able to do something. But Ayasegawa was already moving away. In desperation, Ichigo blurted the first thing that came into his head. "You know, now everyone's seen that you've got bankai, you're gonna have to do a runner. If you don't, every captain in the Gotei's gonna be after you." 

Ayasegawa paused and glanced back, unimpressed. "On the contrary, Shiba-taichō, after I kill you, they will welcome me as one of their own."

That dimension of the fight hadn't actually occurred to Ichigo. He lashed out with the only thing he could. "The Kuchiki will have you slaughtered if you try and take the 6th." They'd only tolerated him because he was True First. For all his airs, Ayasegawa was about as common as you could get.

Tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear, Ayasegawa shrugged. "Originally I was planning to wait and perhaps take the 3rd from Ichimaru, since three is by far my favourite number, however, when the pure-blood Quincy arrived, I could hardly pass up the opportunity." He gestured to the glowing eyes on the peacock feather fans. "And it's worked out perfectly, not only has everyone had the opportunity to experience the spectacular beauty of my bankai at first hand, they'll also bear witness to me ridding Soul Society of its inconvenient Quincy infestation. Given that, I think my new rank will prove very popular in all circles of Seireitei, don't you?"

Not all. The nobility still hated gaki more than Quincy, but Kyōraku would definitely be on-side. Most of those in charge would be.

Except one. And if the only way Ichigo could fight this was by dragging someone else's dirty washing out, then that's exactly what he'd do. "I wouldn't bet on it. The 2nd have known about my uncle for months and they didn't arrest him. In fact, him and Yoruichi-san are friends. She said he could live anywhere he wanted in Soul Society. So killing him might piss her off, big time." Not strictly true, but Yoruichi wasn't here to deny it, so Ichigo was going to roll with it.

"I think I'll take my chances," Ayasegawa said dismissively, starting to turn away again. But Ichigo wasn't beaten yet. 

"Even when you've got to fight her next?"

Ayasegawa stopped and glanced back, his expression just a bit doubtful. "Fight the Shihōin?"

"She might not be captain, but she's still the one holding the 6th right now."

"The law says that whoever kills the previous captain automatically commands the division." 

"Only if they can hold it," Ichigo countered, struggling upright, head reeling. He was still struggling to breathe so fighting with his fists wasn't gonna happen. He'd just have to keep going with words. "She could even turn up right now and take you out while you're still exhausted from facing me."

All the smug confidence flooded back into Ayasegawa's expression. "I wouldn't rely on that happening if I were you," he said. "For one thing, I don't think defeating you will be a problem. And for another, Shihōin-sama would have to find us before she could fight me, and I plan on being back in Seireitei long before anyone works out where we are. Now, hush, I have a Quincy to destroy." He gestured. "Bakudō thirty, shitotsu sansen!" 

Yellow light flared to life in Ayasegawa's hand. He flicked his wrist; one, two, three; and the light became a triangle that split off and shot towards Ichigo. He threw up his hands, intending to cast tenran to counter, and failed. The bakudō didn't even start spinning before the points of Ayasegawa's kidō hit him in all the wrong places. Ichigo was slammed back into the wall, pinned at elbows and groin, and stuck, at least until he could twist enough to get his palms into contact with the reishi holding him.

"Bastard!" he yelled after Ayasegawa, focus torn between him and the kidō. "Leave him alone! It's me you want. Kill me!" Because that was his uncle, who'd only come here to save Ichigo's life. He didn't deserve to die for that!

Down the other end of the arena, Ryūken lurched to his feet. For a horrible second, Ichigo thought he was going to try attacking Ayasegawa bare-handed or something. But he didn't. He just staggered forward a few steps before dropping to one knee again. Only, as he fell, he used the motion to slam something into the ground in front of him. The moment it hit, it lit up like a flare, sending lines of white fire shooting from it towards Ayasegawa, and that wasn't the only place it was happening. Four other points around the arena lit up too, the lines between them forming up into a five pointed star inside a pentagon. 

In the centre, Ayasegawa tried to leap clear of the incoming fire, but it caught him and dragged him back, pinning his legs in place and not letting him escape again. "What is this freakish magic!" he shrieked, twisting in his bonds and firing off kidō, that had absolutely no effect. A heartbeat later, green vines erupted from the ground, darting towards the lines, but before they could even get close, white fire burned them away.

Reeling upright, Ryūken smiled wanly. "Just as I thought. Your zanpakutō might be able to absorb reiatsu but it's at a loss against reishi." He reached behind him and drew out a small silver canister like the ones he'd fired at Ayasegawa earlier. "You want to know what this is?" he said, holding the cannister above the fiery point closest to him and tipping it slightly. "I suppose I could tell you. But that would be stupid. Why warn an enemy what's coming if you can take them by surprise." 

A single drop of bright white liquid split from the tube and fell into the fire. The world exploded. Ichigo was knocked flying as the bakudō holding him failed, and he was swept along the wall, blasted by burning reishi that felt like it was stripping the skin from every uncovered part of him. He flung up his arms to protect his face as vines swarmed against his back trying to consume him whole. 

_You are a Quincy,_ Ossan murmured, sounding distracted. _Such an explosion cannot kill you._

Easy for him to say. Ichigo fought free of the wall to discover a smoking crater where the centre of the arena used to be. Whatever Ryūken had used, had been hella powerful. But not powerful enough. If the bankai was still up, then Ayasegawa wasn't dead. He couldn't even be that severely injured. 

Ryūken didn't seem to realise that, seeing as how he was advancing towards the crater like it was safe. Ichigo yelled, trying to warn him, but only managed an incoherent shout before Ayasegawa plunged up out of the smoke, hat gone, hair nothing but charred wisps, clothing all scorched to black and still smoldering. 

"You will pay for that, you cretinous oaf!" Ayasegawa screeched, flinging out a hand. Vines writhed up from the soil, snatching Ryūken off his feet by the throat and hauling him up to dangle metres above the ground. He grabbed at them, feet kicking. More vines shot up, twisting around all four limbs, and then Ayasegawa snapped his palm shut and twisted his wrist. Ryūken screamed, and even at distance, Ichigo heard bones break and saw blood spurt as arms and legs were wrenched from their sockets.

"Ji-chan!" he screamed, adding his voice to the cacophony. He staggered upright, could do no other. He had to get there, had to help. Had to-

"I told _you_ to shut up!" Ayasegawa spun towards him, finger pointing: "Rikujōkōrō!" 

The new bakudō snapped into place around Ichigo's waist. Frantically, he fought against it. Without the incantation, he could move some, but not his legs enough to run or his hands enough to reach the binding and absorb it. Though he kept trying, he had to. Ji-chan needed him. Ji-chan-

"Ye Lord, mask of blood and flesh…" 

The familiar words penetrated his fog of panic. Ichigo stopped struggling long enough to look up. Ryūken lay on the ground, still and silent. Between them was Ayasegawa, stalking towards Ichigo with both hands out, incanting. 

"…all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man!" 

Sōren sōkatsui, Ichigo would know it anywhere, it was one of Byakuya's favourites and a level seventy something kidō. If it hit him at this range, fully incanted, with his reiatsu as low as it was, Ichigo was dead.

"On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus."

Heart hammering in his chest, Ichigo twisted madly, trying to force his hands close enough to get just a touch on the bakudō, to at least start absorbing it. If he could manage that much, maybe he could dodge the worst, get clear somehow. 

"In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens."

Fuck! He was gonna die. He really was gonna die! Then who would help ji-chan and Yuzu? Who would rescue Renji and Byakuya and get them back where they belonged?

"Hadō seventy three. Sōren sōkatsui!"

The kidō roared towards him. Ichigo did the only thing he could. Shoving the last scraps of his reiatsu to the surface, he screamed defiance into blazing hurricane and forced every muscle in his body into motion. The binding shattered as the blue fire hit, slamming him back into the wall then into the ground. His hands flew up automatically, but this was way too much reiatsu to be absorbed. It was too much to breathe through. Too much to even think through. 

Skin started to char, veins burst. As the next wave of fire hit, Ichigo gasped, positive each breath would be his last. Except, the new fire didn't burn. Sure it was hot, but not searing. Forcing weeping eyes to open, Ichigo stared up at the world above him. It burned phosphorescent white, but beyond that, where there'd once been vines, lay the depthless black of the night sky. 

Against it hung a winged figure, limned in white with a glowing star bursting from its chest. In its hand, it carried a long phosphorescent bow. Caught in a fever dream of pain and confusion, Ichigo tracked the figure as it slowly descended from the heavens to land beside Ryūken's body. There, it paused for a moment before stooping as if to check on something. Sight fading, Ichigo struggled to watch as Ayasegawa advanced on the figure like he meant to attack. That should have meant a battle, but when the shinigami drew close, the figure simply reached out towards Ayasegawa, who crumbled, limbs falling off like branches from a dead tree. 

As he fell, the walls of vines crumbled too, vanishing away into nothingness and letting the fresh night air rush in. A moment later, Ryūken climbed to his feet, helped up by the glowing figure. Unsteady and wavering, but whole and alive once more. 

And finally Ichigo recognised who the figure was. As the last of his energy ebbed away, taking with it consciousness and rational thought, Ichigo's mind clung stubbornly to just one question: 'Why did cousin Uryū look so much like an angel?'

*

Ichigo landed as he always did in his inner world, on hands and knees. It took him a moment to gather himself, to remember the last thing that happened: Ryūken, Ayasegawa. Uryū?

Had any of that even been real? If it was, then the fight was over. But if not, he needed to get back. Now.

He scrambled to his feet, tugging on the strands of awareness that tied him to his physical body. No response. He tugged again, harder. Still nothing. Lip curling, Ichigo gave it a huge yank, and ended up on his knees again as his body finally sent him back a message that contained a seriously unreasonable amount of pain. 

"Fucking ow!" he snarled, though honestly it was kind of reassuring. If his body hurt that much, he couldn't be dead, though it probably meant he was unconscious. For now then, he was stuck in his inner world, which, he suddenly remembered, wasn't the safe haven it used to be. 

A strange heavy feeling hung in the air. Back on his feet, Ichigo looked around warily, but the entrance hall of the Senzaikyū was empty. No hungry ghost Byakuya about to jump out of the shadows, no invading BFF mist. No Ossan or Zangetsu either, which was worrying. If Zangetsu had taken over his body again, Uryū and Ryūken could be in serious trouble. And Yuzu! Crap, how had he forgotten Yuzu!

How could he have been so dumb as to seal her inside a kidō with a hollow!

But for all that, Ichigo didn't think Zangetsu had taken over again. Last time he'd done that, he'd cut Ichigo off in his inner world and refused to let him even sense his body, and that had definitely been a reaction from it just now. No, it was way more likely that both spirits were both around here somewhere, just keeping a low profile so Ossan could keep Zangetsu safe again. 

Could they be outside?

Grimacing, Ichigo peered through the main doors of the Senzaikyū into the swirling white mist outside. Even if they were out there, without Ossan's protective bubble, Ichigo wouldn't last two minutes before ending up best pals with Tsukishima again. Plus Byakuya had been haunting the mist too the last time Ichigo had seen him, so no, going out there wasn't going to happen until he'd exhausted all the other possibilities. 

Which meant the Senzaikyū needed to be checked over first. Changing focus from normal sight made Ossan's ribbon spring out immediately, bright white against a field of red. It was right above him. 

"That was easy," Ichigo muttered, heading for the stairs that led to the rest of the building and peering up them. Was it his imagination, or did it seem darker up there, like maybe someone had switched off the lights. He frowned, trying to sense any alien reiatsu or anything that might be a hungry ghost, but he couldn't feel anything beyond that odd dark heaviness.

Warily, he began to climb. The further he got, the darker it became until the darkness itself seemed to take on a physical form and what looked like black gloop clung to the walls.

Hang on. Ichigo's steps slowed. He'd seen this stuff before. This was Ossan's reiryoku! What he'd been sensing was Ossan's reiatsu, it was just so vast that he hadn't recognised it. Remembering the stuff's quicksand-like properties, Ichigo reached out with a tentative hand and brushed against it. It clung, briefly, before sliding off his fingers like rain off an umbrella. Whatever the reason, this time Ossan's reiatsu wasn't going to trap him.

Reassured, he picked up speed, skipping steps as he hurried up the steep stone staircase. The real Senzaikyū's second floor would have contained the central tower's guard post but, because this was Ichigo's inner world version, what he actually found when he got there was the corridor outside his old cell. That made it pretty obvious where Ossan was likely to be. 

The floor was awash with reiryoku. Ichigo tiptoed down the corridor, one hand on the wall for balance, and peered in through the barred door of the cell. There on the futon were Ossan and Zangetsu, both deeply asleep. 

As he watched them, a smile crept over Ichigo's face. They looked so cute, curled up together like yin yang puppies, the blackmail potential was golden. But honestly, a decent rest was no more than both of them deserved. As far as Ichigo was concerned, Zangetsu could sleep for a year after what he'd endured under Kurotsuchi. 

The only thing still bothering him was the sheer amount of reiryoku coming from Ossan. That was definitely weird, though it could have something to do with all the reishi Ichigo had absorbed during his fight with Ayasegawa. Something like that had happened before, when Ichigo had eaten the tainted rice. According to Zangetsu, Ossan had gone all gloopy then too, so maybe this was just a thing that happened when there was more power around than the Quincy could easily use.

He'd definitely used up some. Going by the lack of hungry ghost, he'd managed to get rid of Byakuya, and Tuskishima's BFF mist was well and truly contained outside the tower. For now, Ichigo's inner world was safe again, and that was a good thing. He just had to hope there was someone out there taking such good care of his body.

*

Yuzu knelt on the muddy bank of the Karakura River and continued to scrub. The filth had got everywhere, ground into her clothes, her skin, her hair. What she really wanted was a bath, but the only bath was at home and getting there would mean walking through town covered in the kind of foulness that might rub off on other people, so really it was better for her to stay here and wash.

It took forever, but finally her clothes were clean, her skin too, which was when she started on her insides, and that wasn't anyway near as much fun.

She jerked awake as the last of the corruption sluiced away. The sky above her was black and full of bright white stars, and her breath gusted out in big puffs of mist, but she wasn't cold. Actually she felt quite warm, warmer than she had in forever. And clean, like somehow she'd been reborn, purged of everything that wasn't purely and simply Yuzu.

Her stomach rumbled. Surprised by the unfamiliar feeling of hunger, she sat up. She was on the edge of a forest in a muddy clearing that was surrounded by tall trees. But that wasn't the strangest thing. It was the way the trees looked that grabbed Yuzu's attention, because they looked more real than real. It reminded her of a movie daddy had taken them to see last year. The story had been about children who were spies, but the 3-D pictures had been amazing, and that was how these trees looked now. Like somehow, before, Yuzu had only been seeing them on a flat screen but now they were in 3-D. They sprang out of the scenery like every single one of them was really alive, full of green and growing energy.

Fascinated, she rolled to her knees, wincing as she knelt on something sharp. Twigs, she thought, looking down. Vines, her mind supplied, and along with the word came memories: of waking up face to face with a black-eyed monster; of being dragged across the ground, screaming for nii-chan, whose face twisted in agony as their hands missed by millimetres; of being swallowed whole by a wall of green that got blasted apart by a blizzard of white. 

She didn't remember anything after that, until the dream. Had she been asleep long? Had nii-chan beaten the monster and left or had the monster won? Was it even now creeping up on her?

Shaking, Yuzu scrambled to her feet, arms hugging her waist and checked anxiously in all directions. No monster, that she could see anyway, but there were two very strange looking figures in the middle of the clearing. They shone bright white, enough that she could easily pick them out in the darkness, and they were bending over someone who was lying on the ground. 

Nii-chan. Yuzu had no idea how she knew, but she knew she was right. That was her big brother on the ground and he was hurt. 

Eyes already filling with tears, she began to run towards him, stumbling across ground that was full of deep holes and mounds of earth. If she could have cried out, she would have, but there was no space in her chest for that. It was all taken up by fear and breath that wouldn't quite catch enough to stop her heart pounding in her ears and the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

As she got close, one of the figures leapt to their feet, a bow and arrow suddenly in his hands. He pointed them at her and Yuzu stopped dead, well-trained by months of working with shinigami who only got more dangerous when they were hurt.

"Who's there!" the figure demanded, then in a voice full of confusion, added, "Cousin Yuzu?"

The other figure sprang up then and hurried towards her, grasping her shoulders and bending down so he was speaking into her face. "Yuzu-chan. Ichigo said you were out here, but I had no idea-"

Yuzu pushed past, gaze fixed on her brother. Ichigo lay on the ground, unmoving except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The top part of his face was a mess of blisters and burns, as were his hands, but they were just surface injuries, they could be healed. It was the ones Ichigo bore deeper down that terrified her. Filth, the same as Yuzu had cleansed from her own soul crept through every part of him. 

She fell to her knees beside him and everything else dropped away as her hands began to glow, white and whiter still. She reached out to purge the filth and corruption from her brother's soul before it consumed him alive and-

Someone caught her wrists and tried to pull her hands away. "Yuzu-chan, no! Whatever you can see, it's too dangerous-"

Yuzu fought them, determined. The wash of power from her hands felt like fire. It fell upon the wrongness, forcing it out of Ichigo's body to crawl across the ground screaming in high pitched voices: Tsukishima, Tsukishima, I love you Tsukishima.

At the sound of the name, Yuzu faltered.

Tsukishima-sensei. 

The man [who'd pretended to be] [who was] her friend. Who [had been there all along] [she'd only just met]. The man who'd [kept her safe] [turned her against everyone].

Her mind twisted, trying to accommodate twin sets of memories, and her hands fell to her sides, the power dying as the truth finally settled into place and the enormity of it all crashed in on her. What had she done?

Renji-san. In prison. Take and Tamiko. Dead, because of her.

"Yuzu-chan?" 

A face was peering into hers, hands shaking her shoulders, but all she could see was that boy's face, the one she'd told Soifon-fukutaichō all about, the one that Soifon-fukutaichō had promised to find and bring back to Seireitei, along with everyone else from Isane's camp. 

'For their own good,' Tsukishima had said as they'd walked to the 13th. 

'So they can be helped," he'd continued as his zanpakutō sliced across Tōsen-taichō's unprotected back. 

'Because Tsukishima-sensei is my friend," Tōsen-taichō had added, writing a list of names on the piece of paper that already contained everything Yuzu knew.

'Because this is going to bring the Shihōin to her knees," Aizen declared later examining the documents with growing glee.

Yuzu blinked, finally seeing her uncle's worried face. "What have I done?" she whispered, horror growing. "What have I done?" It ended on a wail as she threw herself into Ryū-jichan's arms, which closed around her, rocking her gently as his voice soothed, "It's okay. It's going to be fine." 

But it wasn't. It wasn't okay at all. Nothing was ever going to be okay again.

*

When Ichigo finally did come to, it was to the smell of something seriously amazing. Still a bit groggy, he raised his head, sniffing, in the hopes of getting another whiff because now he was back in his actual body, he was starving.

"Good evening, Shiba-sama," someone said and poked him in the cheek. "Please open your mouth and have some of this wonderful food that's been prepared for you." 

The voice was familiar. Ichigo frowned, or tried to. His eyebrows wouldn't work properly, like they'd been coated in plastic. His eyes wouldn't open either! They'd been stuck down! And when he tried to get whatever the hell it was off his face, he ended up smacking himself in the nose with hands that seemed to be wrapped in mittens. 

"Shiba-sama, please do not touch-"

"What's wrong with me?" Ichigo demanded. At least his voice was okay, and his lips seemed to be fine. He licked them just to check and got a blast of something cool and soothing. He was also wrapped in a blanket and could feel the heat of what was probably a bonfire nearby.

"Your face and hands took some damage from the kidō," another voice said and this one was familiar enough that Ichigo thrashed his way upright, his own injuries forgotten.

"Ji-chan! You're alive!" Maybe that whole thing with Ayasegawa and Uryū hadn't been a dream.

A hand caught his desperately flailing one and gave it a gentle pat. "It's been a long time since you called me that, Ichigo-kun," Ryūken said. "And yes, I'm fine."

"Don't listen to him," said yet another voice. "He's totally exhausted and half his body is covered in bruises."

"Uryū!" Ichigo was starting to feel like a one note wonder, parroting names like he was, but this was his family. He needed to know if they were okay. 

But this wasn't all of them. Fear curdled in his belly. "Yuzu. Is she with you? Is she okay?" Dropping his uncle's hand, he reached for his face again to get rid of the damned bandages. How could he look for his sister if he couldn't see her! 

Soft fingers, that were always strong for their size, stopped him before he could rip them off. "I'm right here, nii-chan. Please don't remove the dressings. Your eyes need a chance to heal properly."

Clutching Yuzu's hand with his own bandaged ones, Ichigo sagged back on the bed. "Are you okay? Zangetsu didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I'm fine, nii-chan, I promise." She might be saying that, but Ichigo could hear the tremor in her voice, so he wasn't exactly surprised when, the next moment, he had a sobbing Yuzu-shaped lumped attached to his chest. "I'm so glad you're okay, nii-chan! I was so scared! There's so many terrible things!"

Ichigo patted her awkwardly on the head. "Shh, it's okay, I'm here now. Nothing else bad's gonna happen." Especially not to do with that dick, Tsukishima. As Yuzu snuggled closer, he bowed his head, nose ending up buried in hair that smelt of mud and sweat. But it was good to know she was unhurt, physically at least. Now there was only one more thing Ichigo needed to know before he could relax completely.

"You might also like to know that the shinigami we were fighting is dead."

That was it. Ichigo huffed out a relieved breath. "Thanks, oji-san."

"Not ji-chan anymore? You must be feeling better."

Despite the amusement in his uncle's voice, Ichigo felt his cheeks heating. He'd not called Ryūken by that childish name for years, but there'd been something about seeing him ripped apart…

"How come you're not dead?" Ichigo blurted, immediately feeling bad when Yuzu's fingers clutched at his sides. Had she known about how close the battle had been? Probably not, given her reaction, but he had to find out what had happened in the end, how much of what he'd seen was real. He ploughed on, fumbling for words that wouldn't upset her even more. "It's just, Ayasegawa…He… What I saw…"

"Yuzu, why don't you go and help Shiroganehiko with the packing." 

Ryūken's quiet suggestion wasn't one that could be ignored. Yuzu seemed to unfreeze and her warm weight lifted off Ichigo's chest. "Yes, Ryū-jichan," she said quietly, and then, "See you soon, nii-chan." With a final brief hug, she was gone, which was good. Although he missed her already, it was better she wasn't around to hear some of this. 

After a moment or two's silence, Ryūken said very matter-of-factly, "It's true, I was dead. Or very nearly. What else do you remember?"

Ichigo thought back. Had the thing with Uryū been a dream? "Uryū was there," he said tentatively. "And he… This is gonna sound totally insane, but he looked like an angel. All glowy white and flying."

Someone snorted loudly. Probably Uryū since it was Ryūken who said, "It's an understandable mistake, given the form Vollständig takes."

"Voll-what-dick?" 

Uryū choked and Ichigo could almost hear the rolled eyes as his uncle said, "Vollständig. A Quincy ability similar to Letzt Stil, but capable of being activated more than once."

Quincy lessons, seriously. First thing. Ichigo shook his head. "I have no idea what either of those is."

Ryūken sighed. "I know you don't, and I'm sorry for that. Your parents felt it would be safer if you children were kept ignorant of both your heritages."

Ichigo's stomach gave an odd kind of flip-flop. "You didn't agree?"

"In my experience, ignorance is a profoundly dangerous state of mind. Better to educate a child and allow an informed decision than have them naively blunder into danger later."

"Or dead because they had no clue what was coming," Ichigo added before he could stop himself, and even he could hear the bitterness in his voice. He turned his face away, ashamed.

"Didn't help us," Uryū said bitterly as a hand squeezed Ichigo's arm and Ryūken murmured, "Don't ever think Isshin doesn't love you. He just thought he was doing the right thing at the time."

Ichigo shrugged the hand off, not ready yet to make peace with the way dad had hidden everything from them. "So you gonna teach me this stuff now? Because I'm getting seriously fed up with having to ask Ossan for help every five minutes."

There was a distinct pause before Ryūken said, "Who is this 'Ossan'?"

Ichigo tapped his head with clumsy hands. "The guy in here. You know, the bit of Yhwach you told me about."

Another pause, one that lasted long enough to turn into an uncomfortable silence. Ichigo was about to ask what no-go subject he'd stuck his foot in this time, when Ryūken asked finally, "You can interact with it?"

Right. Not a foot in mouth moment, just a confusion. Ichigo frowned, the dressing over his eyes crinkling across his forehead. "You guys can't?"

"I didn't even know it was possible," Uryū said. "Are you sure you aren't just hallucinating?"

"Pretty sure," Ichigo retorted, "Since I've been able to see him since just after I died. Him and Zangetsu hang out together in my head." And crap, that really did sound like something only a madman would say. "You know, in my inner world," he clarified.

Ryūken made a humming sound. "A shinigami's soulscape. Yes, perhaps the soul fragment could manifest there."

So it was him being part shinigami that let him talk to Ossan. "If you can't talk to yours, how do you guys even know about the soul piece?"

"Through the records, primarily," Ryūken replied. "And the manifestation of abilities, of course. Instinctive in Echt Quincy, and trained into those of mixed-blood like Uryū."

That dumb pure-blood mixed-blood thing again. To Ichigo it sounded like the kind of crap nobles in Seireitei spouted about the differences between them and souls from Rukongai. "Well, since I've been getting Quincy lessons from my soul bit and Uryū can turn into an angel, I reckon having some non-Quincy blood is pretty damned useful," he grumped, ready for this whole conversation to be over. 

His stomach rumbling proved the perfect subject changer. A loud voice that Ichigo now recognised as Koganehiko said, "Ishida-sensei, please allow Shiba-sama to continue his meal. We must leave soon and he needs to be fit to travel."

"You're right. Come, Uryū, let's leave Ichigo to his food." A hand briefly grasped Ichigo's shoulder again. "We'll talk more later." 

Ichigo had a stomach full of rice and stew by the time Ryūken came back to remove the dressings. The ones on his hands came off first and Ichigo endured making fists on command and having his fingertips poked with needles, all the while trying not to think about what he'd do if the damage to his eyes was permanent. Ryūken didn't seemed worried, so it stood to reason there was no point Ichigo worrying either, but still, it was hard not to. If he couldn't see, he couldn't fight, and if he couldn't fight, how could he protect everyone?

After way too much fuss, the final bandage over his eyes was lifted away. Ichigo blinked them open, squinting slightly as the world zoomed sickeningly in and out of focus, all vertical bands of colour and light. It took him a second to work out that what he was seeing was ribbons, two red and three white, against a black backdrop. "Okay, that's new," he said.

"Can you see?" Ryūken asked.

Ichigo turned to face him and one of the white ribbons resolved into the crouching figure of his uncle. "Um, currently only in ribbons of reiatsu, which is weird because that's only ever happened inside before." 

Ryūken was nodding. "They're spirit ribbons.You were caught in the backdraft of Uryū's Vollständig. The two things are probably related."

Several things added up in Ichigo's mind and some of his worry abated. "It's Ossan," he said. At his uncle's enquiring look, he added, "When Ossan has too much power, it turns into this kind of black gloopy stuff and drips everywhere and, right now, my inner world's full of gloop." Though on the upside Tsukishima's BFF fog had almost completely gone by the time Ichigo left.

"You say that as though it's happened before," Ryūken suggested. "Has it?"

Details of the world behind Ryuken began to appear. There were rocks everywhere, not the trees Ichigo had expected. "When did we move?" he asked, squinting around at the darkness. Above, the sky was huge and strewn with stars but, since this was Soul Society and the stars never moved, that told him absolutely nothing.

"As soon as we could, and we've further to go yet," Ryūken replied, then huffed out through his nose. "Ichigo-kun, please, you need to focus. When this happened before, how did you bleed off the excess reiryoku?"

"I didn't, though I didn't end up seeing spirit ribbons either, so I'm guessing Ossan must have done something to fix it. Anyway, it's wearing off." Though Ichigo made sure to hang on to how it felt to use it in the real world. An ability like that could be really useful the next time he needed to find someone. 

"You can see again." Relief painted itself in broad strokes across Ryūken's face. Ichigo politely ignored it.

"Well enough to get moving," he said and started to get up, only to lose his balance and sit down again. Apparently his legs were wobblier than he'd thought. "How come you guys are still here, anyway? I expected you to be long gone."

"Unfortunately the senkaimon you'd suggested as an exit point was heavily guarded by the time we arrived, so we had to turn back," Ryūken said, standing stiffly and offering Ichigo a hand up. Ichigo accepted it gratefully, because Ryūken was family and a doctor, so taking help from him was totally not showing weakness. "Luckily we met up with Ganju and he suggested that we join him at a mine just south of here." 

Now he was upright and could have a proper look around, Ichigo could see they were in the coastal hills, which meant they were probably only a few spirit miles from Ginzan. Excellent. "That's where I was headed too. I didn't know Ganju knew about the place." Though he had dropped a note to Kūkaku about a possible job opening, so maybe she'd passed it on.

"Apparently he's recently been appointed manager there and feels that a combination of his familial relationships and new status would protect us from most casual searches." Ryūken sighed quietly. "Of course that was before that shinigami advertised our presence to everyone in Soul Society. I fear things will have changed somewhat since then." 

Ichigo winced. Ryūken was right. Ayasegawa might not have been mister popular in the Gotei but even Yoruichi couldn't ignore two Quincy killing a captain level shinigami in public. The chances of quietly adopting his uncle and cousin into the Shiba clan had just taken a nosedive.

Still, Ganju's original plan had been a good one. "We should still go there. There's an emergency escape route at the bottom of one of the mines, so you guys can get out that way if you need to."

"And you?" Ryūken asked, giving Ichigo a serious look. 

He wanted to go, desperately, if only to check on Renji and find out what the hell had happened to Byakuya. But he wasn't a free-agent in this. He shrugged. "Depends what Karin and Yuzu say. I can't leave them here."

Ryūken nodded at that. "Well, Karin should already have crossed over, since she and Sado-kun set off some time before us, so I suppose the decision is Yuzu's. Though I'm sure she'll be happy to go along with whatever you decide."

Ichigo wasn't so sure. Not if Tsukishima still had his claws in her. On the other hand, he couldn't lock her up in the living world either. He scowled at the idea of keeping his little sister prisoner. "Has she said anything to you since she woke up?"

An expression that Ichigo would have called furtive on anyone else skated across Ryūken's face. "She's said quite a few things. Are you talking about some subject in particular?"

"A guy called Tsukishima."

Ryūken's tongue darted out and wet his lips. "And who is this person to you. A friend?"

Ichigo snorted. "He wishes. No, the bastard's got a shikai that turns you into his best bud, but Ossan managed to dodge it and has managed to keep the worst of it under control ever since."

"So you don't feel the urge to report back to him then?" 

"Not even a bit."

A whole raft of tension seemed to vanish from Ryūken's body. "Yuzu will be relieved to hear that," he said, lifting his hand and waving at someone behind Ichigo.

Ichigo glanced round to see not just Yuzu and Uryū, but the two huge Shiba retainers, and Ganju with several of his gang members all watching from a distance. At Ryūken's gesture, huge grins spread across all their faces and they started towards him. Ichigo spun back towards Ryūken. "You thought I was still under his influence."

"We didn't know. Which was why we stopped here, to treat your injuries and check to see if you might be a liability before we risked giving anything else away."

That made a scary amount of sense. Then again, this was the guy who'd prepared false identities for himself and his family on the off chance they ever had to disappear. Like with everything else, Ryūken took the concept of safety first seriously.

"… thanks," Ichigo said, not really knowing what else to say, but grateful anyway.

Ryūken dropped his chin in a move that made Ichigo think immediately of Byakuya. "No thanks is necessary. In any case, it's your sister who deserves true credit since it was she who identified the contamination in your soul as the same as that which she had purged from her own."

"She got rid of it? How?"

Ryūken's expression immediately turned furtive again. "A complete explanation will have to wait for later," he said, as Yuzu barrelled up to Ichigo and nearly knocked him flat again. "For now, let's just say you were not the only one affected by Uryū's Vollständig." 

He reached out and ruffled Yuzu's hair. She pouted up at him and then the others arrived, Ganju and his gang bringing up the rear with a herd of massive boars all wearing saddles and bridles. So that was how they were getting to Ginzan. Ichigo could hardly wait.

*

Since Ganju hadn't expected to meet up with more people on the road, there weren't nearly enough mounts to go around. Shiroganehiko and Koganehiko immediately volunteered to double up, but when even the pigs seemed to balk at that idea, Ryūken suggested they split by weight rather than rank.

That horrified the brothers, so in the end they compromised. Ganju and his gang all paired off, the two huge Shiba retainers got a pig each, though they complained the whole time, and Ryūken insisted that Yuzu ride with him. That left Ichigo sharing with Uryū and, after a brief tussle over who was going to drive, which Ichigo won by the simple expedient of pointing out that his cousin could hardly see a hand in front of his face let alone well enough to steer, Ichigo took the reins and mounted first. 

It was something like sitting astride a wide badly-padded couch. Until the boar started moving that was, and then all bets were off. The beast lurched into motion with a jolt that slammed Ichigo back into Uryū and then Uryū forward into Ichigo, who dragged on the reins in a vain attempt to control the thing. It didn't work. Nothing he tried did. The massive pig was picking up speed, the ground moving past dangerously fast. Bushes whipped against them, trying to drag them off, rocks loomed up out of nowhere, and then the damned thing leapt into the air.

Ichigo yelped, dropped the reins and grabbed the saddle, feeling Uryū grab onto him in turn and then they were both just clinging on as best they could as the pig careered across the hillside in hot pursuit of the rest of the herd. Ichigo might have closed his eyes at one point, he might even have screamed, but he definitely wouldn't have admitted it even if he did.

It took a while, and several almost tumbles, but eventually they both got accustomed enough to the pig's bounding stride to talk without biting their tongues off.

"What's with that Vollständig thing then," Ichigo called back over his shoulder, his words whipping away in the wind. 

Uryū's grip around Ichigo's waist loosened slightly as he lifted his head, the hood of his winter cloak falling back to reveal a pale pinched face. "You heard what father said. It's like Letz Stil."

Which told Ichigo absolutely zip since he still didn't know what that was either. But right now that wasn't what Ichigo was getting at. "No, yeah, I meant, how come you have it and your dad doesn't?" Because if Ryūken did have that kind of ability, surely he'd have used it to take out Ayasegawa himself.

"Oh right." Uryū's face twisted. "We think that's what Kurotsuchi was trying to force when he implanted the cross in my chest. It almost went out of control again a couple of weeks ago and I ended up accidentally activating the Vollständig trying to stop it. Father was furious."

With Uryū? No, more likely with Kurotsuchi. Ichigo waited for another smooth stretch of mountain track before saying, "Did I tell you, I put the bastard in a bucket?" 

That made Uryū sit up straight, though he kept a tight hold. "You fought him?"

Of course, he wouldn't know about the fight with Zaraki or anything that occurred afterwards. Without thinking it through, Ichigo began outlining what had happened, and ended up running aground on the existence of his inner hollow.

"You've got a what!" Uryū demanded, then nearly smacked his nose into the back of Ichigo's head when the boar suddenly bounced down the side of a steep incline. For a second all they could both do was cling on and hope, then they were back to flatter ground and Ichigo had no choice but to answer.

"Urahara did it," he said. "After I got bankai."

"That bastard," Uryū snarled. "He's got no idea what he's playing with."

"And you do?" Ichigo had meant it as a throw away line and was surprised when he felt Uryū tense behind him. "Hang on," he said, twisting in the saddle so he could see his cousin better. "You do know!"

"Not how to hollowfy someone, no," Uryū replied uncomfortably. "But I know about binding souls together. Grandfather did it with your parents after your mom was bitten by an arrancar."

"What?!" At Ichigo's yell, the boar jolted like it might take off. Both of them froze, neither daring to so much as breathe until its gait evened out again, when Ichigo said more quietly, "He did what to mom and dad why?"

Uryū sighed like he couldn't believe Ichigo was being so stupid. "Your mother was attacked and bitten by an arrancar when she was about eighteen. The only way to save her was to reinforce her soul with a shinigami one, so your father volunteered. It worked but it cost them both their powers and their souls ended up bound together until she died."

That made it sound like they'd been forced together. Ichigo swallowed past the heavy lump in his throat and said, "Was that why they got married?"

"What? I don't know. How would I know that?"

"Well, you know all the rest, so why wouldn't you know that too?!" Ichigo snapped. He'd thought his parents loved each other, despite the differences between them, but if this was what had happened then it had the potential to change everything. 

"Only because I read grandfather's notes," Uryū said. "They were purely scientific. I didn't even know it was your parents until I mentioned the case to Ryūken and he told me who the subjects were."

"Ryūken knew?" But of course he did. Ichigo's mom was his adopted sister.

"He didn't just know, he helped," Uryū replied waspishly. "So if you want any more details, I suggest you ask him and stop hassling me." 

They didn't speak much after that and Ichigo was grateful for more than one reason when Ganju called a halt about half an hour later. They were just below the crest of a hill on a steep slope covered in pine trees that honestly could have been on the same mountain as Ginzan or in an entirely different area. Geography really wasn't Ichigo's strong point. He'd been relying on finding the same road as he'd taken before to get to the mine.

He slid from the boar's back with a wince. His ass felt tenderised, his thighs were never going to be the same again, and he wasn't even thinking about his back. Behind him, Uryū dismounted too and, still not speaking, they limped over to find Ganju, who was hand-feeding some of the pigs carrots while the other members of his gang set up camp. 

"I presume we needed to stop and make plans for when we get there," Uryū said dryly, in a tone that suggested he'd better be right or else Ganju just might end up being a pig treat himself.

"Nee-san will already have sorted that out, won't she, Bonnie-chan," Ganju cooed, making kissy-faces at his pig, apparently oblivious to the slobber splattering all over his pants. 

It took Ichigo a second to scrub his brain clean of the images enough to process the actual words, then he blurted, "Hang on, Kūkaku's at Ginzan?"

Ganju levelled a slow, disbelieving look at him. "Ya idiot! Course she is! You went and told her about it before you told me!"

Which, fair point. Kūkaku was nothing if not an interfering old hag. Still, no way was Ichigo letting a challenge like that go unanswered. He bulled up to Ganju, jabbing him in the chest with a pointed finger. "Hey! Who're you calling idiot, dumbass!"

Ganju swelled up like a bullfrog and his pals all cowered like he was about to explode. "Dumbass! Dumbass!! I'll have you know, you're speaking to the self-proclaimed number one mine manager in Rukongai!"

"Self-proclaimed. Number one…" Ichigo sputtered, and things probably would have gone downhill from there if Ryūken's voice hadn't suddenly rung through the trees, "Stand down, the pair of you!"

There was something about that tone. Ichigo saw Ganju's eyes widen the same moment his own did and they both took a hurried step back, looking towards Ryūken who was striding towards them looking absolutely furious.

"Are you trying to draw attention to yourself?" he demanded at Ichigo, which was when Ichigo realised his reiatsu had flared along with his temper. He really needed to stop doing that.

"No, Oji-san. Sorry, Oji-san," he said, hanging his head in shame. So much for calling Ganju a dumbass. You didn't get much dumber than advertising your presence when you had no idea how close you were to any outposts. If they were anywhere near Ginzan, that display could easily bring a patrol down on their heads.

"And you." Ryūken had turned his attention to Ganju, who sprang to attention. "I assume this is where you arranged to meet your sister?"

This was all arranged in advance, Ichigo thought plaintively? Why had no one told him?

"Yes, yes, this exact spot," Ganju replied earnestly, jabbing a finger at the ground. "I sent Kenji and Rikichi on ahead and told them to tell her here and nowhere else."

"Did you specify when?" Ryūken enquired.

Ganju's face fell. "It's very hard to tell time out here?" he suggested weakly, despite the guy behind him having a huge clock strapped to his back. 

Ryūken's nostrils flared. "Did you at least say tonight?"

That took a moment's hastily whispered conflab with his gang, but when Ganju turned back around, he was able to answer with a firm, "Yes, sir." 

"Then I suggest we make ourselves comfortable and wait for her arrival then," Ryūken said.

*

Comfort was subjective. Their packs didn't exactly make luxurious seats, but they were a hundred times more comfortable than the back of a pig. Miyamoto, the clock-wearing guy, turned out to be the gang's cook, not Ganju at all, and while he and Yuzu got started on a meal, the others busied themselves taking care of the pigs or went out on patrol.

Ichigo volunteered for the latter, not only wanting to stretch out kinked muscles but also wanting a bit of distance between himself and the others until he got his head in order. 

So many things about Ichigo's former life had turned out to be lies. His dad was a dead guy in a fake body, his mom a Quincy. The world contained monsters and magic and more than one world, and most of it seemed to want him dead. But through everything, Ichigo had never ever doubted that his parents loved each other. His belief in that was so complete that he'd used it to underpin peace between the warring parts of his own soul. If a shinigami and a Quincy could love each other, he'd argued to Zangetsu and Ossan, then they could damn well get along too. 

So it had to be true. And if he looked back, he could see it was too. Isshin had worshipped the ground mom walked on. And mom had been the heart of them all. Who couldn't have loved her.

Unless all of that was a lie too. 

There was only one way to find out.

It was a matter of moments to locate Ryūken and only a few minutes more to catch up with him. He'd headed for the crest of the hill and was standing beneath a clump of wind stunted pines looking down on something below. Ginzan, Ichigo realised, recognising the pattern of lights dotted across the mountainside. Each of the tunnel entrances must be lit by its own kidō.

"I didn't realise we were so close," he said, going to stand beside his uncle. It was freezing cold up here on the ridge and Ichigo tugged his hood tighter around his neck.

"Close enough to be cautious," Ryūken replied, his voice muffled by the scarf he wore across his mouth, and yeah that had been another dig at Ichigo's loss of control. There was no point in protesting it though, because Ryūken was right. And at least he'd only been cutting when he told them off. Isshin would have kicked Ichigo in the head.

The bastard was always doing shit like that. Surprise attacks and midnight ambushes. In retrospect, the moves had been pure hakuda and they'd certainly stood Ichigo in good stead when he'd tried to face-down Renji and Byakuya that first night. Not that he'd stood a chance. They were decades - centuries - older than him, the same kind of age difference there'd been between Ichigo's parents, and if they hadn't been in love then maybe-

"Oji-san," he said before the doubt blazing through his mind could consume him whole. "Were mom and dad in love when they got married?"

Ryūken flicked a frown at him and tugged down the scarf. "Where has that suddenly come from?" he asked.

Ichigo shrugged. "I just wondered is all." Which really wasn't going to get him an answer. Sighing heavily through his nose, he glanced at his uncle. "Uryū told me about mom being bitten by the arrancar."

"Ah," Ryūken said as if that explained everything, which Ichigo guessed, it probably did. For a long moment Ryūken said nothing else and Ichigo was beginning to think he wouldn't, then he said, "I told you that Masaki was adopted, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you said you and her were supposed to end up together, that was why your parents adopted her." Was this when Ryūken confessed that they'd been in love all along and that Isshin had stolen Masaki away? Ichigo wasn't sure he'd survive hearing something like that.

The corners of Ryūken's mouth curved into a sad smile. "That was the idea, yes," he said. "Though if they'd wanted it to happen, they should have sent Isshin away the moment Masaki was brought into the house."

Ichigo took a step back, stomach churning. "What?" His mom had been a kid, surely Ryūken couldn't mean…

"Oh, don't get the wrong idea," Ryūken chuckled. "It was entirely one-sided." He gave Ichigo a look from beneath his hood. "Have you ever seen a little girl with a crush, Ichigo-kun? They are quite the most determined thing on the planet. And from the moment she first set eyes on Isshin, your mother was determined to have him.

"It took a while for anyone to notice, but when they did, it caused a terrible row. I mean, she was a Quincy child, he was a centuries old shinigami in a fake body." He sighed, gaze drifting back towards the valley again. "Isshin left, for several years. I don't know exactly where he went, we never discussed it, but he stayed in touch through letters and telephone calls. Then your mother was attacked by an arrancar."

"How?" Ichigo blurted. "What was one even doing in the living world?"

Ryūken shook his head. "We never found out. But it wasn't the normal kind, so I suspect it was an escaped experiment." He grimaced and Ichigo just knew he was thinking of Kurotsuchi. Ichigo wasn't so sure it would have been him though. A strange arrancar meant that Urahara was more likely. Or Aizen.

"You have to understand," Ryūken continued, "Quincy science has never been terribly interested in hollows. Experimenting on them was considered too dangerous, and the rules stated that they and anything contaminated by them should be destroyed."

Did that mean…? "Mom should have been killed?"

"According to the old ways, definitely," Ryūken replied. "But my father was never one to go along with the old ways. If he had been, he'd never have helped Isshin. He had a similar lack of regard when it came to science. He reasoned that, since Quincy were often the target of hollow attacks, it made more sense to find ways to help the survivors recover rather than kill them." Ryūken let out a bitter little laugh. "After all, there were precious few of us left by then."

After the shinigami had finished with them. What had Ryūken said? Five families, out of a population of almost ten thousand people. At best that couldn't have been much more than fifty individuals. No wonder the old man had wanted to find a way to save everyone.

"So he found ways of healing hollow bites and purging the contamination from Quincy souls. But none of those methods worked on Masaki, the infection was too tenacious, too fast moving. To stop her from dying the most hideous and painful death, he was going to have to take the kinds of risks no one had taken for centuries." 

Ryūken paused for a moment. "I can't remember if we've ever discussed this before, but shinigami and Quincy are considered by most scientists to be the opposite of each other. Mirror images, if you will. Dead and alive. 

"A hollow is trapped halfway between, having once been alive and now being dead. A human is alive with the potential to be dead. Together they make up a circle, what shinigami call 'the balance'. 

"The hollow essence inside Masaki was dragging her further and further towards death, and the only thing that would stop it was the opposite of it."

"A shinigami?"

"Not quite. The gigai father had made used reishi to mimic the human body precisely. By trapping a shinigami inside it, he hoped to create an anchor that would prevent Masaki's soul from sliding any further. To reverse the damage already done to her and to create the bond between them, he sealed his own power within her." Ryūken touched something dangling from a strap around his wrist. 

"His cross," Ichigo said, remembering now. Ryūken had said that the Quincy cross Ichigo had used to kill Miyako had been his father's and that it had stopped working when he'd used it to seal Masaki. But why had it woken up again when Ichigo had touched it?

He tried asking.

"I'm not entirely certain," Ryūken replied, "But I think the remnants of his power might have ended up in you."

"What? How?"

"When your mother got pregnant, the bond between her and Isshin started to break down. Father was dead by then; donating his power to Masaki weakened him fatally; so I was the only who could fix it." Ryūken eyes lit briefly with amusement. "And you didn't make it easy, believe me. Every trick I tried, your reiatsu circumvented it, eating away at the bond from the inside, until eventually the only option was to syphon off your reiatsu virtually as soon as you made it." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wonder if that's how you ended up so strong?" He shook his head, dismissing the idea. "Anyway, I think enough of my father's power got into you that, when you touched his cross, you were able to reactivate it."

That made sense. As much as any of this did. 

But his wasn't the only pregnancy his mother had had. "Did you do the same thing to Yuzu and Karin?"

"There was no need," Ryūken replied. "The bond stayed perfectly stable throughout the whole nine months, though it wasn't until afterwards that we understood why." He paused for a moment before glancing at Ichigo. "You know your parents didn't want you to know about your heritage."

"Yeah, I kinda got that," Ichigo retorted.

That earned him an acknowledging nod. "Twins are… rare, amongst Quincy, and their powers are almost always unusual. When Yuzu was born, it quickly became obvious that she was a very strong Quincy. Your parents were terrified that she'd attract the wrong kind of attention and begged me to do something about it."

A chill gathered in Ichigo's belly. He had a nasty feeling he knew what was coming.

"At their insistence, I removed her Quincy powers using the technology inherent in a Sanrei glove-"

"You stole her powers!" The image that leapt into Ichigo's mind was Renji's expression when Zabimaru had been sealed. To do something like that to a child was unforgivable.

"I realise it seems like an extreme solution, Ichigo-kun-"

"It's obscene," Ichigo spat. "Have you told her? Does she know?"

"She does now," Ryūken replied. "The same blast from Uryū's Vollständig that burned you so badly reactivated her powers. She is, for good or ill, a full Quincy again."

Yuzu. A Quincy. This was getting beyond strange. "What about Karin?"

"Perfectly fine. She appears to have taken entirely after your father."

Kurotsuchi would be furious if he'd known he'd been chasing the wrong sister. Still at least nothing had been done to her. Ichigo levelled a look at his uncle. Doing things for people's own good was such a dick move. But it had been mom and dad who asked him to do it. 

"Did Yuzu forgive you when you told her?" he asked, because apparently he couldn't leave well alone.

Ryūken inclined his head. "She did."

Of course she did. It was Yuzu. She'd always forgive things that were done to her. It was people threatening anyone else that got her mad. And now she was a Quincy. A powerful one. What did that mean, Ichigo wondered, apart from her being in danger from people like Kurotsuchi and Kyōraku, of course. 

Not that any of them were safe right now. Which meant that now was not the time to be blaming anyone for anything.

With a sigh, he let it go and got back to his real reason for talking to his uncle. "So, mom and dad?" 

Ryūken turned and looked him dead in the eye. "Believe me, Ichigo-kun, none of this had anything to do with your parents being in love. _That_ had been determined a very long time before."

Because of mom's childish crush on Isshin. "But she was just a kid," Ichigo argued, still not quite willing to give it up.

"And it took Isshin a long time to believe Masaki could still feel the same way about him even after she'd grown up. But he got there eventually, and their soul bond had nothing to do with it. He would have stayed beside her and protected her whether she loved him or not, of that I am absolutely certain."

There was no arguing with that. Ichigo felt something in his chest unwind. His parents _had_ loved each other. That part of his life wasn't a lie. Those few treasured memories that he had left, of them all as a family, were still safe.

"Has any of that helped?" Ryūken asked suddenly, making Ichigo jump.

"Yeah, it does, a lot. Thanks, oji-san."

"Good." Ryūken turned and, gesturing Ichigo to join him, began heading back down the slope towards the camp. "Then you can do something for me while we're waiting for Shiba-san to arrive."

Ichigo fell into step beside him. "Sure. What is it?"

Ryūken tossed him a look. "Talk to your sister. That Tsukishima man made her do some terrible things and she's convinced herself that it's all her fault. Since you experienced the same thing-"

"You think I can convince her that it wasn't." Ichigo nodded and set his jaw. "I can do that. How come she's free of it anyway. Was that Uryū's Vollständig too?" It would explain why Tsukishima's BFF fog had faded the way it had. Ichigo had thought it was Ossan's doing.

"No." Ryūken smiled a little sadly. "It turns out that Yuzu's Quincy powers include the ability to purge corruption from a person's soul. It's an incredibly powerful gift that I'm not sure she truly understand the implications of just yet."

Wow, his little sister was that kick ass. "I think she cleansed my soul."

"She undoubtedly did." Ryūken barked a little laugh. "I think, if I hadn't stolen her powers, she might even have been able to fix your mother, then all of us might still be alive."

The irony of that was kind of mind-boggling. They trudged back to the camp in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for killing off Yumichika OTL. I adore him as a character in canon, but in this verse there really wasn't any choice. That scene, with Uryu arriving to rescue his father and Ichigo at the very last moment and Yumichika's bankai informing all of Seireitei of the Quincy's presence was a one of the pivotal ones that have been with me since I first conceived of this story. On the upside, I think Yumichika went out the way he would have wanted. He fought hard, and damn nearly won. Plus, everyone got to see his beautiful bankai.


	26. Killing (Me) Time

If they were heading for Akiruno, they were taking the scenic route. They were also making stops along the way. After the first few, Renji's balls had stopped hurting enough for him to make a desultory attempt to escape. He slammed his feet against the side of the van a few times and yelled some, though not enough to actually attract any attention. After all, the last thing he wanted at this point was accidentally end up rescued, but if he didn't try at all, that might look dodgy as well. Maybe he should consider throwing a bit of low key moaning in just to shake things up? 

As it turned out, he never got a chance to try. Just after the van stopped the next time, the side door slammed back and there was Mendori-san, the blue/white flicker from the taser in his hand illuminating his face like lightning. "Better shift over, Abarai," he said, smirking nastily and jabbing the taser in Renji's direction. "Got a present for ya." 

As he spoke, Kutsuzawa's other bodyguard, the one Renji had dubbed No-neck during their short stint on the door together, trudged out of the darkness and heaved a body into the back of the van. Renji, who'd taken one look at what Mendori-san was holding and scrambled backwards, blinked at the lax sprawl of long dark hair, green jersey and skinny jeans face-down at his feet, his brain refusing to parse what he was seeing.

No. His hands clenched desperately into fists behind his back. "No. No, no, no." He struggled to his knees, heart starting to pound in his ears because this could not be Byakuya. It couldn't. Byakuya was safe at the apartment with Zommari, not getting picked up by fucking yakuza sidekicks with fucking tasers! 

But it was him. Renji knew, despite his every attempt to deny it. "What did you bastards do to him!" he yelled, the words tearing at his throat. 

The door slammed shut on raucous laughter taking with it what little light there had been. Forcing himself not to panic, Renji shuffled closer. Byakuya couldn't be dead. It was just the gigai malfunctioning because of the taser, nothing more. 

More slammed doors, another moment, and the van lurched into motion with a roar of engine and crunch of gears. Teeth bared, Renji toppled forwards, twisting to avoid landing on top of Byakuya and snarled in frustration. How was he supposed to check for injuries without hands, without light. Without a fucking steady place to even kneel! 

But at least he was close enough to touch Byakuya now. "Come on," he urged, pushing lank strands of hair from Byakuya's face with his nose and trying to sense if Byakuya was twitching or shaking. "Come on, I know you're alive in there." He had to be. Renji couldn't do this alone. He wasn't cut out for it. So what if they fought, or if sometimes Renji wanted to kill him, at the end of the day, Renji still loved the guy and so he just had to be alive. "Come on, say something. Speak to me."

There was no verbal answer, but breath that stank of sickness and sleep gusted across Renji's face. Renji sobbed with relief, pressing his forehead to Byakuya's shoulder to try and muffle the sound. He didn't want to hear it himself and he definitely didn't want those assholes up front listening in. 

His moment of relief was cut short by the van cornering wildly. Everything in the back went skidding and Renji had to strain to get between Byakuya and the side of the van before he slammed into it. Once there, Renji grabbed an upright, hooked his legs firmly around Byakuya's waist and hung on for both of them. It wasn't easy. The metal cut into his fingers and Byakuya was no help at all, just a dead weight lolling against him. And that wasn't right. Even when Renji had got the second blast of taser, he'd still been able to move some, even if it had only been to twitch. 

Now Renji started to worry, his mind conjuring serious injuries out of the darkness. The only way to know for sure was to check Byakuya over, but he couldn't do that without hands. So, when they finally hit a bit of straight road and the van stopped swaying all over, he wrestled them both into the corner and wedged Byakuya in beside him. Then, any chance he had, like when the van slowed down or stopped at an intersection, he ground his wrists frantically against the metal struts. 

The cuffs were strong, resisting for way longer than Renji would have thought possible. He was on the verge of giving it up and trying to rip the gigai's hands off instead when, to a chorus of screeching brakes and sounding horns, the van bounced up a kerb. Renji lurched backwards, slamming his head into the wall behind him with a sickening thud, and then forwards, smacking his face into his upraised knees. 

"Ow," he groaned as the plastic gave and his hands flopped, tingling and sore, to his sides. Beside him, Byakuya let out a guttural sound of disapproval and Renji huffed a self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, I hear you. Can't ever get anything without getting beaten to a pulp first, can I."

He shook his hands out, trying to get the circulation going again. At least now he could hang on properly when the van started bouncing around again. Between times, he did his best to check Byakuya over. There were no obvious signs of injury. No lumps or wounds on his head. No badly broken bones. No real reason for him being unconscious. He wasn't twitching either, which made Renji wonder if they'd used the taser at all. Maybe they'd drugged him. Slipped something into his drink like they had with Renji, or maybe used that stuff you put on a cloth. Renji had seen kidnappers do that on TV, put a cloth over someone's mouth and nose and they went unconscious.

But where was Zommari while all that was going on? Had they grabbed him too? 

Did it actually matter? Either way, Renji had made a promise to get the guy's wife back, so that's what he needed to do. Letting go of the strut he'd been hanging on to, he shoved his hand down the front of his pants and pulled out the glove.

Up until now, his plan had been pretty simple: sit tight until he got delivered right where he wanted to be. The stops and detours along the way had been a bit disconcerting but after what Mendori-san had said about Kutsuzawa wanting to deal with Renji personally, Renji knew that he'd be delivered in time for a front row seat, so he'd stopped worrying about that and focused instead on what he'd do once he'd located Unagiya-san. Though, that bit was pretty simple too: rip the hands off the gigai, dump it, and kick the crap out the bad guys.

Now Byakuya was here, all that had to change. Unconscious, he was vulnerable. Worse, his presence made Renji vulnerable, and Kutsuzawa and his thugs knew that. If Renji kicked off, all they had to do was grab Byakuya, and Renji was as good as subdued. That made sitting tight till the end of the trip far too dangerous. 

The best option would be to dump the gigai right now, beat the snot out of the goons driving the van, then stick it back on to question them. Even with taking the time to stash Byakuya somewhere safe afterwards, Renji would probably still get to wherever Unagiya-san was being held in time to save her.

Put like that, it all sounded so easy, so why was he sitting here looking at Byakuya instead of getting on with it? 

Because doing all of that would mean being out of the gigai while he was near Byakuya and, in truth, Renji was having problems getting past the memory of what had happened the last time he'd done that. Back at Zommari's place, whatever had looked out at him through Byakuya's eyes in those split seconds after he woke hadn't been shinigami. It hadn't even been sentient. If anything, it had reminded Renji of the worst kinds of hollows, the ones that were all appetite and no rationality, and the idea of facing that again terrified him. Not because he was scared of hollows, but because he had a bad feeling that the only way to stop that kind of monster would be to kill it, which would meant killing Byakuya, and he didn't want to. 

It was stupid and sentimental and went against all the promises they'd made over the years to watch each other's backs and not let each other end up experiencing a fate worse than death and yet, Renji couldn't imagine raising Zabimaru against Byakuya with intent to kill. Not when he didn't know for sure that there was no way back.

And that made him the worst kind of hypocrite, because he'd hated Byakuya for making the same call when Renji had been sentenced to Shugo and Zabimaru had been sealed. 

Now he understood why Byakuya had done it, and yet he still hated himself for wanting to do the same. He should be braver than this. Better than this. He was a lieutenant in the Gotei 13 for crap's sake, not some wussy human kid.

And yet…

He looked down at the man at his side. In the darkness of the van, it was impossible to see details but Renji's memory conjured them up for him anyway, from happier times. Long dark lashes lying shadowed against pale cheeks. Lips that could be thin and judgemental, would be fuller and more relaxed in sleep. Hair, so dark that at times it seemed to swallow the light, draped over a deceptively slender shoulder. 

And the strength of him, inside and out. His sheer power in a fight and strategic acumen. The resilience that had got them both out of Seireitei and kept them alive against all the odds. And finally the humanity, however much he tried to deny it. Especially during the past year when Renji had finally got to see a little of the laughter and smiles that he'd known were hidden in there somewhere. There was even that sense of shared camaraderie, though Renji had to admit that much of that had come at Ichigo's instigation. 

But there it all was, even so. These things were as much a part of Renji as they were Byakuya. They were so far into Renji's heart that he couldn't imagine life without them, let alone taking the life that sustained them. And if that made him a wuss, then so be it. He'd just have to embrace it.

Of course, what that meant in practical terms was that he couldn't use the glove if there was any chance at all that he was right about what might happen. What he needed was a second opinion, and there was only one person he could ask. 

Slipping the glove back down his pants, Renji looped one arm around Byakuya and put the full weight of his doubts behind a silent cry for answers; _Zabimaru?_ Could he get away with doing this? Was he just being paranoid? 

For a second there was no answer, and then reality dropped away and Renji sank into his inner world.

The sun greeted him with its familiar battering heat. He squinted up at it, wondering why Zabimaru had pulled him in here when the situation outside was so potentially dangerous. It couldn't be to simply talk. Even with the remnants of the seal, they could do that well enough without Renji having to visit his inner world. So there must be something going on that Renji could only understand from experiencing it first hand.

With a sinking feeling in his belly, Renji rolled to his feet and looked around. Initially everything seemed to be what passed for normal in his inner world: white-blue sky arching over sun-blasted sand, the ripple of heat-haze in the distance, and not much else. Then, as he watched, the sky on the far horizon began bleeding slowly to bruise purple. And not because night was falling because, as Renji turned, he could see it was happening in all directions.

"That's Byakuya," he said quietly. It wasn't a question. It didn't need to be. Renji knew exactly what he was seeing. 

Confirmation came in the form of a hiss from beneath Renji's feet. "He is ssearching. For weakness. For wayss in."

Renji hunkered down and peered into the pit. The baboon sat in the centre of the floor area, palms resting on knees, eyes closed, looking for all the world like it was sitting jinzen. Only the constant sway of snake-tail over its shoulder said the nue was awake at all. 

"Will the gigai keep us safe?" Renji called.

The baboon stirred, lips curling back over long fangs as it roused from meditation. As it did, snake-tail sank into a tight coil, seeming to drop off to sleep. A changing of the guard, it had to be. Pupilless yellow eyes gleamed up at Renji as the baboon rumbled, "It gives us a place to hide. However should you take it off, he will come and we will be unable to stop him."

Much as Renji had been expecting that answer, it wasn't the one he wanted. Being stuck in the gigai was going to make rescuing anyone except maybe themselves, impossible, but glancing back at the horizon, at the stark evidence that something was invading his inner world, he had to concede Zabimaru's point. "Fine, I'll stay inside the gigai. You gonna be okay without me?"

"For now," the baboon replied, settling down. As yellow eyes closed, snake-tail uncoiled, tongue flickering. "But choicess will have to be made," it hissed. "Thiss instability cannot lasst." Then, as no more than a whisper in Renji's ear. "Unless he diess."

Renji swallowed. This wasn't the first time snake-tail had made that suggestion. It'd been an ongoing theme over the past few years and, in some ways, hearing it again, here, made Renji even less inclined to do it. 

"You hate him that much?"

Rather than answer, snake-tail flicked its tongue and subsided, allowing the baboon to speak again. "Be wary," it said slowly. "If killing becomes the only option, the danger might become greater yet. Be sure there is someone there to-" 

What the rest of the sentence might have been, Renji never found out because suddenly he was back in his body, Byakuya pressed to his side. For a second he just sat there trying to work out why he'd been thrown out and what was different about the world, because something was, and then the front door of the van slammed shut. They'd stopped moving.

This was his chance. If he could take out whoever opened the doors, he could grab Byakuya and run. Once free, he could call Nic - or Ginjō or whatever the hell he was called - and tell them everything he knew. Warn them about Iba, at least, if they'd even believe him. 

With footsteps and voices sounding down the side of the van, Renji had no more time to think. He scrambled, grabbing the first thing that came to hand and a moment later, when the door crashed open, he slung the grubby sheet over the first head he saw and launched himself at the second like a kid at a rope swing. The goon went down with Renji riding his chest, fists already flying. Enough decent punches landed for the guy to go limp and Renji spun back to the first one, who'd already fought his way clear of the sheet and had come out swinging. Renji ducked the blow and pushed off with all the power he could muster. The thug hit the deck with Renji's shoulder in his gut, head smacking off the concrete. He didn't move again.

Renji staggered to his feet, breathing heavily. They were in a dimly lit parking lot, outside what seemed to be a warehouse. Or maybe a mechanic's shop, going by the stink of motor oil and heaps of tyres all over. Despite the fight, there was no sign of life from either there, or from any of the darkened buildings around it. Perhaps this was actually going to work.

Letting himself hope a little, Renji turned back to the van and began to drag Byakuya up and over his shoulder. For a smallish guy, he weighed a ton, though that might just be the gigai getting tired. It'd been hours since Renji had eaten or drunk anything, and sleep was a distant memory. 

He'd almost got Byakuya balanced when another vehicle entered the street. Renji froze, torn between running and trying to avoid attracting attention. As it turned out, he should have run. The long black car swung into the parking lot, low lights sweeping across where Renji was standing, and across the two guys on the ground, before flicking to a high-beam that damn near blinded him. 

Renji grabbed Byakuya and hauled, but too late. The car doors flung open before it even stopped and two figures piled out, No-neck leading the charge. Renji had trained against fourth seat Hashigami enough to brace himself. He dropped Byakuya back into the van and stepped away from it to ride out the initial hit, turning it to his advantage by using his fists on the back of No-neck's unprotected head. Elbows too. The guy grunted but hung on, and then the second one took Renji at the knees. 

Renji went down like a felled tree, teeth snapping shut on his tongue as his chin slammed into No-neck's shoulder. Blood flooded his mouth and then he was on the ground, fending off No-neck who must be some kind of pro-wrestler, 'cause crap could that guy grapple. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Renji found himself face-down, a hand the size of a dinner plate grinding his cheek into the concrete and another twisting his arm up behind him so hard it felt like it was going to break off. He bucked, grunting, baring his teeth and forcing his head up far enough to snap for real at any stray fingers, his free arm slamming back into No-neck's ribs.

And all of it was happening in deathly silence. No insults, no yelling for back-up. Nothing. Even the car's engine had been switched off.

The realisation almost cost Renji the fight. He went slack for a startled second and, if it hadn't put No-neck off balance, he'd have been dead and buried for sure. As it was, it gave Renji time to get his face free of the dinner plate hand and start yelling. He got as far as, "Help! Poli-!" before meaty biceps jammed up under his jaw turning the end of the word into a strangled squawk. 

At least No-neck changing his hold let Renji get both hands free. Using one to try and keep from being throttled, and gouging some decent channels into No-neck's arm at the same time, Renji reached up with the other, grabbing for ears and, when he found one, yanked on it, hard. No-neck's head slammed into Renji's from behind, making him see stars, but he hung on, even when fingers like sausages shoved up his nose and prised his head back until his neck creaked.

At some point during the fight, they'd got turned around and now Mendori-san swam into view. He was standing by the open door of the van and, through tear-filled eyes, Renji could see the gun in his hand. The gun he held pressed to Byakuya's temple. 

The smirk on his face said more than any words.

This was exactly what Renji had been worried would happen. Not that Mendori-san could really understand the implications of what he was threatening to do. It wasn't like a human-made bullet in the head could kill a captain-level shinigami, but it would incapacitate the gigai, and crap only knew what that would do to its ability to contain the monster that Byakuya was halfway to becoming. If it failed, Byakuya would get loose, and Renji couldn't let that happen. Not in the middle of an unprotected city. 

With an aggrieved growl, he went limp. 

Around him, people sprang into action. No-neck released his hold and Renji was dragged to his feet, arms yanked up behind him and taped, wrist to elbow this time. Then he was pushed and shoved in the general direction of the warehouse, the sound of its metal doors opening conveniently drowned out by the roar of a well-timed passing train. And wasn't that track nice and close if they needed a quick way to dispose of people. 

Inside the workshop, the stink of motor oil was even stronger and the whole place was cluttered with machinery and hulks of cars. Beneath stark fluorescent lights, a gaggle of black-suited goons were dragging equipment around, in an apparent attempt to clear a bit of the floor. They took absolutely no notice of Renji being frog-marched past them towards a door in the opposite wall labelled 'Staff Only'.

As they reached it, Mendori-san stopped, gesturing with a gloved hand to a small group of people just visible behind a tall rack of shelves. "Stick the princess with them," he said.

The four men and one woman all had their hands taped and their mouths covered. As the thugs dragging Byakuya peeled off towards them, Renji dug his heels in. "Oi, what're you gonna do with him?" he demanded.

"Guess that kinda depends on you, now don't it," Mendori-san replied before knocking on the door and going straight in, leaving Renji and No-neck waiting outside. His answer did absolutely nothing for Renji's state of mind, though he supposed he should be grateful they weren't planning to include Byakuya in the fun right from the get-go. 

At the sound of new voices, the woman had looked up. Renji had never actually met Unagiya-san but one look at those eyes, intense and furious even at this distance, convinced him that he'd finally found her. Their eyes met and he smiled, trying to cram all the reassurance he could find into it. He might be stuck in a gigai and a bit tied up at the moment but no way would he let her or anyone else get killed, even at the expense of his own life, and he knew that Zabimaru would feel the same. 

He might have made more of an impression if the main door hadn't opened right then to let in two more thugs dragging a man between them. They were having a hard time of too, because he was a big guy who wasn't coming easily. 

Zommari! 

Renji forced himself not to react. Not that anyone would have noticed because suddenly Unagiya-san was scrambling across the room towards her husband, several goons in hot pursuit. Zommari shrugged off his captors and set off towards her, the pair meeting halfway in a desperate collision of bodies and bowed heads that lasted only split seconds before they were ripped apart again, Unagiya-san being hauled off back to her original place with the other prisoners. 

Zommari, they forced to his knees, the man standing over him wearing a neckbrace and carrying a sword, none other than Mendori-junior, Akio-chan's husband and the guy Renji had been worried he might have killed just a couple of days ago. Now he kinda wished he had. Even more so when he yanked Zommari's head back and Renji caught a glimpse of just how battered the guy's face was. He must have fought hard. 

But then Zommari, even more so in some ways than Renji, had someone he had to fight for. Just where was Kaoru?

Glancing back over at Unagiya-san, Renji could see she was in tears. Did she know, or was she just fearing the worst. Renji's belly clenched at the idea of that cute spunky kid getting picked up by these assholes. 

He almost let rip right there and then; dumped the gigai, eliminated the bad guys and called it battle won; only, with Byakuya stalking his soul, there were no guarantees that he'd be able to hang around long enough to make sure everyone stayed being all right. Knowing Renji's luck, the moment Byakuya caught up with him, the Iba would arrive on the scene and then everything he'd done up to then would be pointless. No, he'd have to hang on until he knew for sure that all the players were here and then take them out all together.

Behind him, the door to the staff area opened and Mendori-san poked his head out. He nodded briefly to his son before turning his attention to No-neck. "Bring him in," he said, jerking his chin at Renji.

The room was an office containing a desk, chair and a metal filing cabinet covered in greasy fingerprints. There was also a massive black leather couch pushed back against the right-hand wall, which was where Kutsuzawa was seated. As they entered, he looked up, single hooded eye lazily alert. The hand that wasn't holding his silver pocket watch stretched along the back of the couch, long fingers tapping like they were counting off the seconds. "Abarai," he said, snapping the watch closed and sliding it into his waistcoat pocket. "I hear you've been up to your tricks again. Did you honestly think you could escape?"

Rather than answer, Renji simply levelled a look at the guy. Kutsuzawa's gaze flicked left and the next moment No-neck's fist planted into Renji's stomach. Surprise and the simple power of the blow doubled Renji over. He would never get used to how weak he was in this gigai. Kutsuzawa gave him a second to recover and then said again, "I asked if you honestly thought you could escape."

Easing himself upright, Renji darted a look over at Mendori-san, who was perched on the desk smirking at him, before returning to Kutsuzawa. He knew from the state of Zommari's face that this wasn't going to be like being held by Hanna and Akio-chan. These guys actually knew what they were doing, and that meant Renji had to be careful. Their fists might not be able to kill him any more than their guns could, but if they damaged the gigai too badly before he could get his hands free, he might end up stuck inside it and then he'd be fucked, and so would everyone else. Luckily a few decades in Seireitei had made him real good at playing along when the guy in charge was being an asshole. 

Ducking his head in pretend humility, Renji said, "Reckoned I stood a chance."

"Better," Kutsuzawa replied. "Now…" Leather squeaked as he shifted in his seat. "My daughters are under the impression that you and your partner are police officers, or possibly some kind of secret agents. Is that true?"

Interesting distinction, that his daughters thought they were, not him. And why would he ask if he thought so too?

The trouble was, denying it might make things worse. It was the only cover story Renji had that gave him any value at all, and he didn't want to end up beaten to death just yet. Time was what he needed, so bluffing had to be worth a try. And anyway, a real police officer wouldn't exactly co-operate right out of the gate, would they? "I might be," he said. 

This time, the blow drove him to his knees. He pressed his forehead to the floor gasping for breath and trying not to puke. Fuck, but No-neck had some power in those arms. When he died, Renji was gonna rip them off for him. But not right now. 'Cause right now the guy was an ordinary human and so off-limits for shinigami, even if he was the world's biggest asshole.

Hands grabbed Renji and dragged him to his feet again. He stood, swaying slightly, and glared at Kutsuzawa, who gave him an irritated look. "Do I have to get your partner in here?" he demanded. "Normally I wouldn't involve someone who wasn't fit to defend themselves, but I can make an exception."

He would too. It was in that hawk-like gaze. Renji bit his lip, then shook his head. If the guy was threatening Byakuya, it was time to look like he was co-operating properly. 

"We're not police," he confessed. 

Kutsuzawa left the answer hanging for a second before saying, "I know that. Do you know how I know?"

Renji looked around himself for a clue, and found nothing. "The tattoos?" he suggested, because he seemed to remember someone mentioning that even undercover cops looked liked salarymen. 

Did Nic look that tame, he wondered, without his bed-head hair and net shirts?

"Partially," Kutsuzawa conceded, dipping his chin. Two fingers pressed into his cheek as he leaned an elbow against the couch arm. "Though it was more that they fit an overall pattern." His eye fixed on Renji again. "The thing about undercover policemen is that they always have excellent fake identities. You two do not. In fact, according to every source we can find, official and unofficial, you and your partner only started existing the day you walked into the club."

That was because, before that day, they really hadn't.

"That makes you extremely unusual," Kutsuzawa continued. His fingers moved to his moustache, stroking over it once or twice before he asked, "Have you ever met Superintendent Kojima?"

That was the name Nic had used when he was being Ginjō. Renji tried to look thoughtful and then shook his head. "Name doesn't ring any bells," he said.

This punch did make him puke. He was face down in it, sobbing for breath before he registered the blow landing, and screw these fucking gigai anyway. Without it, he'd have dodged that easily.

"I find that highly unlikely," Kutsuzawa was saying blandly like he hadn't just ordered Renji's spleen ruptured. "Since it was his son who introduced you to Akio-chan."

Mizuiro's dad was Ginjō's boss? Okay, this had just taken a definite step towards the weird.

"So, you obviously know him, and yet you aren't one of his men. What then can you be?"

Renji didn't have the breath to answer, he was too busy pressing his forehead to the floor and hoping his stomach hadn't actually burst. 

Black dress shoes moved into his line of sight. Kutsuzawa must have stood up but, since no one was kicking or punching him, Renji guessed the question had been rhetorical. "I think what you are is evidence," Kutsuzawa continued after a moment, proving that Renji had at least got that much right. "That someone has finally got Kojima on their payroll."

Okay, they were being downgraded from cops to gangsters. That… could play either way. Renji had no clue.

"But who, that's the question."

No-neck grabbed Renji's collar and hauled his head up until he was nose to nose with Kutsuzawa. The edge of vertical scar was just visible beneath his eye-patch, and the hungry glint in his other eye was scarily familiar. Renji had seen it more than a few times amongst Kuchiki hangers-on, like that fuck-wit Fugawa. For all his airs and graces, Kutsuzawa liked hurting people, and it was obvious he wasn't finished with Renji yet.

"I know several methods of getting a man to talk," Kutsuzawa was saying, "Some more effective than others." 

Renji swallowed back fear and braced himself. Whatever Kutsuzawa did, it was only pain and it was only the gigai. All he had to do was endure until they were ready to kill the prisoners, and crap knew he was excellent at enduring. He was practically an expert at it after Kurotsuchi's table and there weren't nothing this human could do that'd compete with that sack of shit…

"We'll start by removing an eye."

…except that. Renji lurched to his feet with a roar, an instinctive, 'no fucking way, you'll have to kill me first,' racing through his head because, even if this was a gigai, losing an eye could be permanent. And that wasn't happening. 

Only, with No-neck still hanging on to his collar, Renji didn't make it more than a single step before getting slammed face-down against the empty end of the couch. From there it was stupid easy for them to force him over onto his back and then, with Mendori kneeling on his thighs and No-neck's biceps tight up under his chin again, Renji wasn't going anywhere. 

Unless he ripped the hands off the gigai. But if he did, that'd be it. Game over. He'd only have a few minutes before Byakuya got him and by then more thugs might have turned up with more prisoners and just no. No. He owed it to these people, to Zommari and Unagiya-san, to hang on. 

But still, it was his eyes. Blinded, he'd be helpless.

Mind starting to blank in panic, Renji fixated on the single bare bulb swinging from the ceiling, using it to fight for some kind of focus. He mustn't lose it. He had to hang on, stay with it enough to take advantage if they fucked up. When they fucked up. Because they had to. Please, they had to.

A dark figure loomed over him, blocking the light, and then came the click of a switchblade. 

There had to be a way out that wouldn't destroy the gigai. There had to be.

Breath cramped in Renji's chest and his eyes flicked and rolled, desperate to see who had the knife. Not Kutsuzawa. He was the one watching, greedy anticipation all over his ugly face. Mendori then, expression cold and set as he leaned forward. Renji choked as the blade came closer, struggling until metal pressed to the thin skin under his right eye. Then he froze, blood thundering in his ears, mind spinning so fast that it finally jumped tracks. 

Behind his back, arms bulged with muscle as self-preservation won out over reason and that instinctive part of his brain that needed to escape decided to do it all by itself. More power, it demanded. More. His body tried, but there was no more. The gigai soaked it up, stopping Renji using his full strength, just like it had when Mizuiro had taped him to the chair, and when No-neck had wrestled him to the ground. There was no more power. There was no ripping the hands off the gigai. There was no escape. 

Mendori's fingers flexed on the knife and then suddenly from out in the workshop came a noise like a metal sheet ripping apart and the night filled with people yelling, "Freeze!" and "Get down!" and "Drop your weapons!" 

The blade lifted and absolute relief washed through Renji like a hot wind. He might have sobbed. He probably did. The police! In all this shit with Kutsuzawa, he'd forgotten about Nic. 

In the office, everyone was staring at the door, though why, Renji had no clue. Then, from out in the workshop, a single voice rose above the rest. "Kutsuzawa, get your ass out here or you're gonna be down a son-in-law!"

Mendori's eyes widened and he leapt off Renji, dragging the gun from his pocket. But, rather than rushing the door and getting into a shootout with the cops like Renji expected, he yanked open the bottom drawer of the desk, shoved the gun and knife inside, locked it again, and tossed the key under the couch. 

While he was doing that, No-neck finally stopped trying to choke Renji to death, and looked to his boss, who'd tugged the watch from his pocket with an annoyed tsk and was checking it. "Typical," he said, sliding the watch away and straightening his shoulders as he re-buttoned his jacket. "They're five minutes early." 

That sounded he was expecting them, which couldn't good. Though Renji didn't have a chance to think about why because No-neck was hauling him to his feet and giving him a hard shove between the shoulders. Renji staggered a few steps towards the door on watery knees, his body still trying to deal with way more adrenaline than it could use. Though, as he reached the door and was bundled through it ahead of everyone else, he couldn't help feeling more than a bit resigned. Aborted eye-gougee to meat-shield in less than a minute kind of summed up the recent trajectory of his life. 

They exited the office into a stand-off in progress. Someone had pulled the lights, plunging most of the workshop into deep shadow, except for the area just inside the main doors, which was floodlit by the headlights of the cars drawn up outside. Back-lit by the same blindingly white light were a mixed group of about ten uniformed and plainclothes police officers, armed with what looked like guns and batons. One of them already had Mendori-kun face-down on the floor, hands cuffed behind him, sword kicked well out of reach against the wall. 

Kutsuzawa's men had pulled back into the shadows. No-neck pushed Renji in that direction and, as they wove around bits of heavy machinery and between stacks of tyres, Renji finally realised why the police hadn't just stormed right into the place and arrested everyone. Each of the goons back here was armed either with swords or with tools from the workshop. Not that effective against guns maybe, but they could do a lot of damage to an unarmed civilian before the police could stop them. And if they knew anything about what was going down at all, then the police had to know there were potential hostages.

"Kojima-san, was there a reason you broke down the door of my friend's business, or do I need to call your boss about harassment again?" Kutsuzawa called. He'd stayed back on the edge of the shadows with Mendori-san beside him.

"Takeda?" Kojima boomed in reply. "Hah! Even that old fart won't let you dodge this one. Tell your men to stand down or I'll order S.I.T. to open fire."

Glancing back toward the light, Renji managed to get a better look at the man standing over Mendori-kun. Kojima was easily Renji's height and from this distance his beard and moustache seemed to rival the sōtaichō's for length and fluffiness. Unless most of that black fur was collar. Either way, it was some impressive facial hair and made the guy look even more bear-like than he did already. Mizuiro definitely got his looks from his mother.

"No, you won't," Kutsuzawa was saying. "They might accidentally kill someone and you hate the paperwork."

Kojima harrumphed as though reluctantly conceding the point and changed tack. "What was the plan here anyway?" he demanded. "Business deal gone sour? Lover's tiff run out of control? Or don't you care so long as the right people end up dead."

"Dead?" Kutsuzawa said, and if he was aiming for innocent, he missed it by a country mile, the smarmy bastard. "I have no idea what you mean, Kojima-san. I'm merely here visiting a friend."

"Of course you are," Kojima replied, hauling a sullen looking Mendori-kun to his feet and giving him a shake. "And I suppose this here's the friend in question." Then his head jerked in an exaggerated double-take. "Oh my bad, it's not a friend at all, just a lying piece of shit who's going straight from here to freaking jail!" He shoved Mendori-kun in the direction of his men, a couple of whom quickly holstered their guns to dodge forward and grab the guy. "Now give it up, Kutsuzawa. We both know you're not walking away from this."

While the pair argued, Renji was pushed to his knees beside Byakuya, who was still pale and unmoving, except for his chest, which slowly rose and fell. Renji gulped back a flash of panic that rode in on the tail end of all the adrenaline. There was no need to worry. He was still alive in there. 

Or something was. 

Renji took a deep breath and tore his gaze away from his lover, making a determined effort to shove all his fears deep down where he could deal with them later. Right now, he needed to get his soldier's head on. 

He turned his attention to the rest of the prisoners. The men were all huddled together, and looked like a sorry bunch of pen-pushers. Renji dismissed them immediately and moved on to Unagiya-san, who was kneeling alone a few feet further on. She glanced at Renji briefly before turning her attention back to - Oh shit. That's where Zommari had got to. 

A goon, who looked like No-neck's younger bigger cousin, had him right in the corner of the work-shop behind a dismantled car, and was doing something. Tying him to something? It was too dark to make out the details but Renji was starting to get a really bad feeling about all of this.

For a start, Kutsuzawa looked way too relaxed for a man who'd just been caught red-handed with a load of people he'd kidnapped and planned to murder, and for seconds…what was it he'd said when the police arrived? Something about them being too early?

An odd shimmer disturbed the air in the middle of the room. Renji blinked at it, frowning. Was the gigai playing up again, or was that actually real? Then the shimmer became a shape and everything suddenly made a horrible amount of sense. 

Casting a panicked look down at Byakuya, he sent out a silent plea, _Zabi, if I dump the gigai, how long can you hold him off?_

 _If you do not call on us for help, perhaps an hour or more,_ the baboon replied after a moment's hesitation.

That sounded good. Renji was just about to relax when snake-tail added pointedly, _However you musst return to the false body afterwards or be sstruck down._

No shikai, Renji could work with. Not destroying the gigai when he got out of it made things more complicated. What he needed was another pair of hands.

After a quick check on No-neck, who was way more interested in what his boss was up to than anything Renji might be doing, Renji shuffled over to Unagiya-san, leaned over her shoulder and whispered, "Hi, I'm a friend of your husband's and I need you to stick your hand down the front of my pants-"

Unagiya's head whipped round, making Renji jerk back out of reach. "Sorry, sorry," he yelped, then cast a worried glance at No-neck and hissed, "Shit. That came out all wrong. I just… I need your help." Livid and disbelieving brown eyes stared back. Renji gave her a lopsided grin. "Honest. I'm not a perv. I mean, I meant it about the pants, but…" Unagiya-san's expression remained furious under all the tape, but hey, at least she was looking at him now, not Zommari. Renji tried again. "Look, my name's Abarai Renji and we all need to get out of here right now. There's a glove tucked down the front of my pants that we can use to escape, but I can't get at it."

Something he said must have rung true. Unagiya raised her brows doubtfully but, after a quick look back at Zommari, she moved as if to at least try and help. Which was when the senkaimon finally popped into existence and Iba Tetsuzaemon strode out of it wearing a gigai. 

To the police it must have looked like he appeared out of nowhere. One of them let off a startled shot that ricocheted off a metal beam in the ceiling sending everyone ducking for cover.

"Hold your fire!" Kojima bellowed. 

A shocked silence ran through the room, holding for about a second until a single voice rang out, "He's the one! Kill him! Kill them all!" 

It was Kutsuzawa. Iba must have been expecting the order. He raised his hands and loosed a vicious shakkahō at the police line that only missed Kojima by a whisker, and took out one of the police cars outside instead. And suddenly everyone was yelling. Renji hit the floor, taking Unagiya-san with him. "Pants, pants," he gasped, wriggling around so she could get at his clothing and he could still see what was happening. 

More souls were streaming out of the senkaimon. They were kitted out in the same dark uniforms that Renji remembered Iba's thugs wearing when they'd come to pick Fūra up from the 6th. At the time he'd thought the Iba were pushing their luck, dressing their people in something so close to a shihakushō. Now he thought he got it. To the uninitiated, they'd look the same, so anyone spotting them in the living world like this would simply assume they were Gotei and entitled to be there. Risky if they got caught, but clever.

Over by the doors, some of the police looked ready to engage. One or two even produced swords. Kojima had a billhook in one hand and a see-through shield in the other and was yelling for Iba's people to lay down their weapons and surrender or he'd give the order to open fire. 

But rather than looking ready to start shooting people, most of the firearms officers just seemed confused and focused solely on Iba Tetsuzaemon, which made no sense. Sure the guy was a threat, but the others… 

In a rush of horror, Renji realised that the guys with the guns had absolutely no idea Iba's people were even there, which meant they were reliant on the other group to defend them. It effectively halved their fighting force. Damn it, this was going to be fucking blood bath if Renji didn't get his act in gear, right now! 

Another shakkahō. Kojima snapped an order and more shots rang out. Iba went down, gigai blossoming scarlet across the chest and belly, but his people were already moving, producing weapons as they advanced. Swords, spears, clubs, they had them all. Which was strange. As far as Renji knew, the Iba mostly relied on their fists and the occasional knife, except for their pit fighters. Hang on, was that who these people were?

Hands pushed at the top of Renji's jeans. As he sucked his belly in to give Unagiya-san enough room, the big pink guy that Iba had brought with him the last time stepped forward with a thundering, "Bakudō seventy one, zanshō!" and around the workshop, walls shimmered blue as a barrier went up. 

That was it, no one else was coming in or out now. It was all up to Renji. 

Something tugged in his pants and then yes, finally, the glove was free. "Put it on and slam it against my chest," Renji urged, peering over Unagiya's shoulder. "Quickly!" 

The two groups met, someone on the police's side screamed. 

_Zabi, get ready!_

Finally the glove hit his chest and with a tearing jolt Renji peeled himself out of the gigai. He was drawing Zabimaru even as he rolled to his feet, and damn it was good to have his real body back!

Behind him, he heard a shocked gasp; Unagiya, presumably; and then a growl; Byakuya? Was he awake? Was he a monster? 

Not waiting to see, Renji stepped into shunpo. But the growl followed him, striking up through his feet and into the depths of his soul. Inside him, Zabimaru roared defiance and a stabbing pain shot through Renji from head to toe. His vision flashed to wide deserts with a boiling purple sky and he almost fell out of shunpo, catching himself only just in time. 

When they'd spoken, Zabimaru had reckoned they could hold out for an hour. Renji wasn't so sure. 

But at least he didn't have to hold back anymore. Souls fell before his blade like rice stalks. This was what he was trained for. More even than killing hollows, Byakuya had taught him to kill shinigami. He knew where to aim and how hard, what parts were vulnerable and how to exploit every weakness. Some of those he struck were weak, falling with nothing more than a token protest. Others fought back harder, obviously trained, and soon they were the only ones left standing. 

They had the tactics too. Renji quickly found himself surrounded. 

Sight wavering between this reality and the one inside his soul, he turned slowly on the spot. All around them chaos reigned. Despite the police's best efforts, their lines had been decimated. There were officers down all over the place, some badly injured, others shoved out of their bodies, their soul chains a fragile lifeline in the face of this battle of monsters. Only Kojima was still up and functioning, and he was heading to where Iba was struggling back to his feet like he thought he could take the guy on and win. 

He couldn't though, and he wouldn't. He'd end up dead, and he was Mizuiro's dad, the guy who might have tasered Renji and taped him to a chair, but had still found him a job and given him money from his own pocket. Plus, he was a friend of Ichigo's, so that meant Renji had to look after him. And his dad.

Shaking his head to clear it, Renji focused on what was left of Iba's fighters, and snarled, "Come on then, if ya gonna." 

One took the bait, then another, darting in to attack together. Renji snapped them both up eagerly, kicking bodies and weapons away once he was done. More followed, rushing him from all directions. Renji dodged and parried, shifting between hakuda and swordplay, balancing one with the other and using both to match and surpass anything the fighters threw at him.

Soon he had their numbers whittled down to just one, a woman wielding a kusarigama. Which sucked. Renji hated fighting those things. It was impossible to know where the hell either end was going to end up. And she was too fast and skilled to simply overwhelm. Not a thug, that was for sure. They had to be pit fighters, which would explain why the bastards had been so well-trained. 

She also wasn't the only one of Iba's people still on her feet. Two more were hovering over by the senkaimon. Big Pink, who was obviously some kind of kidō expert, and a green-skinned shinigami that looked like a frog with huge teeth. They were both watching Iba, who'd dumped his damaged gigai and had Kojima on the run, though the big guy could dodge pretty well for a human. 

Ducking as the weighted chain of the kusarigama zipped over his head, Renji lunged, trying to get in and under the woman's guard, only to come up against the sickle blade. He thrust it up and away, punching upwards, the heel of his hand skimming past her chin as she dropped back. He followed up, sword swinging for a diagonal killing slice, only for a hōrin to snatch at his arm and drag it back down. Renji spun into that, leg rising to take out the caster, who scooted backwards, dragging Renji off-balance.

It was the frog guy from by the senkaimon. "You'd die for stupid humans?" he demanded, adenoidal voice scathing as he fended off another of Renji's attacks, with a barrier this time. 

Renji's foot struck the bakudō at full power and it didn't even quiver, which wasn't good news. Struggling to focus, Renji pulled back a little to assess this new threat. There was no sign of a zanpakutō, but Froggy's reiatsu said he was definitely officer material. Possibly as high as a fourth or fifth seat. But he didn't seem to be interested in fighting. 

"They only last a minute. Here and gone in a few decades," he was saying, "Not like us. Just turn a blind eye. Walk away." He held out empty hands towards Renji, googly eyes dropping to half-mast. "Better yet, come back to Seireitei."

"Fuck off," Renji snarled, though with a undercurrent of relief. If he was suggesting going home, he couldn't have a clue who Renji was. 

Froggy chuckled, and with his next words completely disabused Renji of that idea. "Sensible, Abarai-san, if it was anyone else but me making the offer." He puffed himself up even rounder than he already was. "Hiyosu Occhō, by the way, fourth seat, 12th division."

Renji felt his choke of horror was more than enough answer. Though knowing this guy was one of Kurotsuchi's did answer some questions, like why the hell he looked so much like a frog. And was that a crank in his head?

Overly large hands flapped at the end of skinny arms. "Ah, don't be like that. You don't have to come to us. There's a lot of people who'd love to make use of your services." 

If you didn't mind working for people like the Iba. Renji jabbed a thumb at his own face and shot back, "With this ink? One look and anyone'd know exactly who I was."

Hiyosu's already scarily wide mouth broadened into a smile. "Not if I changed it."

Changed his face? Renji blinked, his guard lowering minutely.

"And re-tuned your reiatsu. I can do both, you know."

Together, that was basically a new identity.

"It's not like anyone's going to notice when they all think you're in Shugo."

He'd be able to go home. Not to the Gotei, Zabimaru would prevent him ever doing that, but to Seireitei. To Ichigo. He'd be able to breathe the reishi rich air of soul society again and get out of this damned gigai. 

"If you're worried about him turning you in," Hiyosu gestured to where Byakuya lay several feet from Unagiya-san. "I can fix that too. A little work on his brain and he won't be able to tell the 2nd who he is, let alone you. Or, if you want to keep him as a pet, I can change that too. Make him a bit different, if you know what I mean." He waggled non-existent eyebrows.

Renji did, and he wasn't interested at all. Not in that part, anyway. Which wasn't to say that some of what Hiyosu was offering wasn't appealing. Or would have been to anyone who wasn't Renji, because Renji knew the 12th, he knew Kurotsuchi, and no way would a deal like this come without enough strings to make him into a puppet. 

The next words out of Hiyosu's mouth confirmed it. "I'm sure the captain won't ask for many favours in return."

Renji's rejection of the offer must have shown on his face because Hiyosu's smile vanished. His googly eyes flicked to the side and, needing no other warning, Renji hit the ground and rolled. The sickle blade buzzed harmlessly over his head but, when he came up, it was to find Hiyosu pointing what looked like a small machine gun at his head, if machine guns came with extra antennae and a snapping mouth for a barrel. 

He'd been right. The 12th were importing human weapons into Seireitei and modifying them, presumably to kill shinigami. No wonder the guy wasn't carrying a zanpakutō. He didn't need one to kill people.

"Put the sword down and your hands up," Hiyosu said.

Death or the 12th. Renji didn't even stop to consider his options. He dropped an ōrai, the kidō equivalent of a flash-bang, and stepped into shunpo, aiming for enough distance that he could at least try and dodge the bullets. He ended up running into something worse. 

"Bakudō sixty-two, hyapporankan!" 

Big pink's voice rang out and suddenly the air was full of flying rods of reiatsu. Renji did his best to evade them but, once the first one hit, he was lost. It punched through his shoulder from back to front, swept him off his feet and carried him across the workshop to slam face-first into what was left of a car. The second and third rods pierced his other arm, and then the rest thundered home, pinning all of him to the metal. 

As if that would be enough to hold him. 

He snarled, flaring his reiatsu high and hard, and realised his mistake the second he did it. The world flickered and, for a split second simultaneously contained roiling clouds as well as heavy machinery. Zabimaru howled and Renji heard the accusation in their voice. No shikai. Renji had promised.

 _But I need it,_ he snarled back. Without shikai, he wouldn't be able to break the kidō and the humans would die. 

This time the flash of other lasted longer. Renji found himself looking out over the desert of his inner world, at fast approaching banks of cloud, heavy with sand and what looked like lightning. He was seeing through Zabimaru's eyes, he realised, and that storm was Byakuya. Hunting. For him. For Zabimaru.

Using shikai with that watching would be the equivalent of painting an arrow over Zabimaru's head. Byakuya would know exactly where they were and once he found them, there would be no more hiding. Renji would have no choice but to fight.

At one time, Renji might have put Zabimaru's safety first; after all, Hiyosu was right, these were only humans with their tiny lifespans; but that was before. Living here, amongst them, meeting Arisawa-sensei and his granddaughter, Zommari and Mizuiro and the rest of Ichigo's friends, had brought firsthand knowledge in place of theory, and even if every single one of the humans in this place had enough spiritual power to summon a menos, Renji couldn't have turned his back on them and let them die.

 _I'm sorry,_ he said silently, screwing his eyes shut. _We have to._

_Five minutes. No more,_ came Zabimaru's sonorous reply.

That would have to be enough. 

_And then the sscore will finally be ssettled._

As it probably should have been years ago. 

The truth of that settled over Renji's heart like ice. He opened his eyes to the sound of Hiyosu arguing with Iba over the spoils. He wanted the gigai while Iba was hell bent on collecting the reward on Byakuya's head. And they both wanted Renji. So much for a new life back in Seireitei. 

This time when Renji reached for shikai, the power came. It vaporised the kidō and blasted a hole through the car beneath him, peppering the concrete below with lethal shards of metal. It also attracted a satisfying amount of attention. As Renji swung into action, he was greeted by three of the four remaining souls. There was no sign of Big Pink, but he had to be around somewhere, so Renji attacked keeping his back safely towards the wall.

Only Iba came to meet him, but Renji couldn't focus on him, not when Hiyosu was there with that damned gun. Keeping Zabimaru closed up tight, he by-passed Iba with an off-handed shō, and went in for the kill on the shinigami behind him. 

Hiyosu hurriedly raised his gun, eyes wide, but made no attempt to fire. Renji had less than a moment to wonder why before a tanto sliced through where his throat would have been, had he been a heartbeat slower ducking. Too close! But a short blade like that was no match for a sword. Renji dodged to put Iba between him and Hiyosu's gun and then lunged, thinking to use Zabimaru's greater reach to earn a quick kill. Iba side-stepped as, with a whispered word and a surge of reiatsu, his tanto morphed into some kind of machete.

Now _that_ was a zanpakutō, Renji thought, pulling out of the lunge and only narrowly avoiding disembowelling himself on Iba's new longer blade. But since when was Iba a shinigami?

He kicked out, sending Iba flying before stepping into shunpo, which took him back out of immediate sword range, but of course left him open to the machine gun again. It gave a deafening chatter and Renji cast blind, instinctively, "Enkosen!" feeling the bullets rebound off the kidō. He kept it going, expecting another burst, and whipped Zabimaru forwards at Hiyosu. 

It was a great idea, that would've worked if there hadn't been machinery in the way. Zabimaru bounced off a tall metal arch and snagged on a set of shelving, and getting it free again nearly cost Renji an arm as that damn kusarigama woman got in behind him, her weapon a whirl of death. Iba came in from the other side and suddenly Renji was very much on the back foot. Five minutes, Zabimaru had said, at this rate, he'd be dead and buried in half that time.

"For fuck's sake," he snarled to himself. "You're a fucking lieutenant, Abarai, get your head in the fucking game." 

Ducking and rolling, he sent a hainawa after Iba and came up behind the woman's back, slicing upwards, and felt flesh and bone part beneath his blade. She fell, silently and in two pieces. 

One down permanently. One only temporarily, because if Iba had shikai, that kidō wouldn't hold him for long.

Hiyosu had to come next. That gun was almost as bad as the chain and sickle. 

It chattered again and Renji went high, searching for cover amongst the metal beams of the ceiling. It worked, inasmuch as bullets ricocheted everywhere sending Hiyosu diving for cover. Renji didn't bother. A bullet burned through his upper arm, but it was worth it because now he had all the advantage he needed. The byakurai hit Hiyosu while he was still recovering, skittering up the gun to fry his face and most of his right side, which was gonna hurt like a bitch. 

With a pained bellow, Hiyosu flung the now sizzling gun away and it went spinning off under the machinery. Something told Renji the guy wasn't used to going up against armed opponents with that thing. Or at least not anyone of Renji's calibre. Bastard probably just used it to bring down fleeing 'research subjects'. 

Now unarmed and half-blinded, Hiyosu was on borrowed time. Renji landed between him and gun's final resting place, and sent Zabimaru flying in at full extension. As a blade, Zabimaru's shikai wasn't designed to stab, they preferred slicing their food, but on this occasion, they managed it. The broad tip sank into Hiyosu's rotund gut from just below the rib cage to the navel, punching him back half a dozen paces. Then it yanked free again. 

Hiyosu screamed, falling to his knees as Zabimaru's teeth ripped out his innards, one hand pressed to his belly, the other reaching instinctively to scoop up what should still be on the inside. Renji turned away. Two down. Or close enough.

Finally he could deal with Iba, who'd broken the kidō and was coming in fast. The machete flashed again, and this time it came with back-up. When Renji tried to lean out of the upward slice, brass-knuckles caught him in the ribs hard enough to crack them even in shikai. With a curse, Renji spun away, dodging behind some shelving where he almost tripped over Unagiya-san and the pen-pushers who were busy tearing the tape off each other's wrists. He missed them with a skip and a jump and ended up way too close to Byakuya for comfort. 

Byakuya was moving. Or whatever was inside the gigai was. Twitching like a fly-blown corpse, distended and wrong and no way did Renji want to be anywhere near that when it blew.

Shaken, he shunpo'd away, heading towards the front doors, though he stopped before he reached them. It was either that or he'd be in amongst what was left of the police lines and those poor bastards had taken enough damage already. Renji still had no idea what had happened to Kojima, except that he had to be down somewhere since Iba wasn't bothering with him any longer.

Speaking of… Renji raised his sword to face the incoming yakuza. As his did so, the gun-shot injury in his arm pulsed hotly and his grip faltered before sheer stubbornness made his fingers close tighter around Zabimaru's hilt. Still, it was a warning. He needed to finish this, and he needed to stay in one piece while he did it, otherwise whatever was left of Byakuya was going to eat him for lunch afterwards.

Then, suddenly, Iba wasn't coming for Renji at all. He'd veered towards the senkaimon, putting on a burst of speed that was almost shunpo. The bastard was making a break for it! 

Renji went for the intercept but, as he took off, an inhuman screech that sent chills down his spine rose from the other side of the workshop. Byakuya, it had to be. Inside him, Zabimaru howled and there was just enough desperation in the sound to put Renji off his stroke. He missed his timing and his footing, coming out far beyond the senkaimon and had to watch as Iba vanished through the double doors into the dangai.

"Fuck!" he bellowed, casting Zabimaru after him in sheer frustration. But the blade never got as far as the senkaimon. Instead it bounced off a hastily erected barrier, returning to Renji with a furious snap. Big Pink. Renji had forgotten about him.

He'd concealed himself with a kyokkō close to the senkaimon and the kidō was now diffusing, making it look like the guy was slowly coming into focus. Renji took his stance, ready to fight if that's what it took to go after Iba. Because Renji _had_ to stop him. If he reported in, this place was gonna be swarming with more yakuza than the pits on a festival weekend, and Renji wasn't entirely sure he could take all of them, en masse. At least not before Byakuya caught up with him.

"I'd move, unless you wanna die," Renji snarled.

Big pink simply gave him a sad look and raised his hands, ready to cast. As he did so, the right one glinted oddly in the car headlights and it took Renji a moment to realise what he was seeing. The hand was mechanical, which was a new one on Renji. He hadn't known such a thing was possible, let alone how it could work with kidō. 

Still, it raised some interesting questions like whether the original had been taken as a punishment. If so, then the guy was probably ex-shinigami. Maybe they could bond over that or something. It had to be worth a try.

"If we stop him before he gets back, no one'll know what happened. You can go AWOL, join us," Renji tried.

Big pink shook his head. "I'm sorry, Abarai-san," he said, and his speaking voice was so much quieter than when he was casting that Renji had to strain to hear him. "But if I do not return, many people will die."

"And if you let that asshole report in, a lot of people here are gonna die."

If anything, Big pink's expression just turned sadder. "But these people are not my friends."

That took the wind right out of Renji's sails because the bitch of it was, he got it. He really did. He totally understood how you could ignore what was happening to some poor bastard down the street because at the end of the day, all you could do was protect the people that mattered to you. The ones you were responsible for. The killing fields? Sure, he hated them and would close them down in a heartbeat, but who was gonna listen to him, so he ignored them and avoided thinking about them. The 12th, with all the fucked up shit that went down there. Renji's strategy? Make sure none of his people ever ended up in their clutches. Same with that creep Urahara, though Renji's heart broke every time he saw Hisagi.

So yeah, he got it.

Heaving a sigh, Renji straightened his stance. "Guess we'll just have to fight then," he said, hoping against hope that his time lasted that long.

He'd hardly taken a step forward when a scream rang out. "Renji!" 

At the exact same moment, a gun fired. Renji spun, ducking, the world around him seeming to slow to a crawl. As he turned he saw bullets hanging in the air behind him at head height, trapped by some kind of kidō as, across the workshop, the gun fell from Hiyosu's suddenly lax fingers. He was slumping into some shelving, his other hand pressed across his belly, the remnants of a healing kidō still fading around it. But he was dead. He had to be, because even Unohana-taichō would have struggled to heal the massive hole that had been punched through his chest. 

As his body fell, Ichigo's bird-boy friend, Sado, emerged from behind him like a blood-spattered serial killer and, just as suddenly as it had slowed, the world sprang back into motion. People flooded in from everywhere, humans and souls, their voices raised as orders flew and the injured finally got the help they needed. More police poured in through the back of the workshop, and he saw Kojima struggling to his feet, though the severed soul chain dangling from his chest proved it was pointless. Others were luckier. They were being helped back to their bodies and healed by a grey-haired woman with a braid over one shoulder. 

Unagiya-san, who'd been the one to scream the warning, was being comforted by Zommari, whose jacket was covered in the same sticky white residue as Renji's. Even Kutsuzawa was there with the Mendori duo, though all three were in handcuffs and being escorted out by uniformed cops.

Renji stared around at everyone, trapped between hope and terror. It was great to see people getting help, but more people meant more potential victims. His five minutes were running out fast, he could feel it, but if he left now, before Iba was caught… 

_Zabimaru?_

_He is almost here._

The baboon's warning sounded like a death knell. _I can't leave yet. If I do and Iba comes back-_ they'll all die.

 _You must, or it will break free and they will die anyway. Look._

Pain stabbed through Renji's head as, over by the shelves, a movement caught his eye. It was Byakuya's gigai, which had somehow managed to prop itself up and was rocking back and forth as it stared hungrily at Renji across the room.

Fuck, that was creepy. Was there anything of Byakuya left inside at all?

"Are you okay?"

Renji shuddered and dragged his gaze from the horror show that used to be his lover to find Sado beside him, brown eyes full of concern beneath messy over-long bangs. He must have crossed to this side of the workshop at some point, though Renji had no idea when. "No, I'm not," he snapped trying to swallow down the growing sense of urgency in his chest. "I let Iba get away. Someone needs to go after him or this place is gonna be crawling with reinforcements."

Sado's gaze flicked briefly from Renji to the senkaimon before settling on Big pink, who for some reason was looking a lot less determined than he had been. "I don't think that'll be a problem," Sado said. 

With both of them to fight, maybe not, but that wasn't gonna happen. The urgency became a tightness that made it hard to catch his breath. Renji pressed his fist to his chest and continued, "Yeah, that's the thing. It can't be me what goes." 

That attracted Sado's attention back onto him, and the concern in his eyes deepened. "Are you injured?"

"No." The tightness became pain and Renji's knees started to go, his head becoming fuzzy. "I've got a prior engagement." He should explain, except that'd mean breaking the taboo around inner worlds, and to a non-shinigami at that. "In here." His fist jerked.

Something of what he said must have made sense because Sado nodded seriously. "I see," he said, "Then you must do what you need to do. I will take care of everything here." 

It was a dumb claim, and one that the guy couldn't possibly back up. Renji opened his mouth to tell him so, just as the senkaimon started glowing.

"Crap," he gasped instead. A glowing senkaimon meant that Iba was back, and there was no one here left to fight him, because Zabimaru was calling him home and Renji could no more resist that than he could suddenly give up breathing.

But Sado must have felt it opening too. Turning his back on Renji, he pushed past Big Pink to stand before the gate, bandaged fists still dripping gore from punching through Hiyosu's chest. He stood strong, a rock across a river, the twin horns of his tekko gleaming in the floodlights like they were eager for more. 

They were his zanpakutō. Renji wasn't sure how he knew, but he did, and a bark of laughter escaped before he could stop it because, of course the guy had shikai. He was Ichigo's best friend. And no doubt he'd meant it when he'd told Renji that he'd look after things too. Just like Ichigo would. Now, Renji was no idealist, he knew that some promises you just couldn't keep. But he also knew that sheer bloody-minded stubbornness played a huge part in keeping the ones you did. 

"I promise you, Abarai-san, no harm will come to anyone in this place after you leave." 

The quiet confidence in Sado's deep voice soothed parts of Renji that had been stretched to breaking point for days and, for the first time he really got why Ichigo called this guy his best friend. With belief like that behind you, you could do anything. Even bring down the moon itself.

"Thanks," he gasped, ass hitting the floor as his knees finally gave out. His hands dropped to his knees, sword across them, the classic jinzen pose. "Tell Ichigo-" It was getting almost impossible to think, but he should try and warn Ichigo about Byakuya. If Renji lost, the monster might go after him next. "Tell him… Byakuya… Bya…" 

But it was no good, his focus was slipping. His time was up, the world around him fading. Then, finally, it folded in on itself and dumped Renji unceremoniously on his face in the middle of a sandstorm.


	27. Scattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of update last week. I found an issue that needed fixing and then RL got in the way of doing the work. Hopefully we're now back on track though.

Wind screamed around him, threatening to flay flesh from bone. Renji flattened to the ground, deaf and blinded, clinging on as the gale tried to suck him up. A moment later, the ground grabbed back with a soft yet calloused palm that Renji knew almost better than his own. He closed his fingers around the proffered lifeline and let himself be dragged.

This time, for whatever reason, he slipped easily between the bars of the seal and once down below ground level, the noise subsided enough to hear himself think. Given how strong that wind was, Byakuya had to be very close. He'd cut this way too fine. 

Shaking the worst of the sand from his topknot and face, he carefully opened his eyes. Accusatory yellow ones glared back. Renji met them for a moment before flinging his arms out in protest. "I'm sorry, okay! I came as soon as I could."

The baboon blinked at him before turning and going to sit several feet away. "So long as you're finally here to fight," it said, in a tone that left Renji in no doubt that he was being judged, hard.

"Of course, I am. I gave my word." Looking around for his sword, Renji spotted it nearby and went to retrieve it. 

"And kill, if necesssary."

Renji flicked a dirty look at snake-tail before stooping to pick up his sword. "I ain't killing him unless there's no other choice." 

"Good enough," the baboon said, just as snake-tail hissed, "How ssweet. He sstill thinks he'ss in love."

"There's no _think_ about it!" Renji snapped. "Now, gimme a lift up out of the pit."

"With that ssword?"

Renji glanced down at the blade in his hand. He'd thought it felt odd when he picked it up. Normally when he came into his inner world, any sword he used fitted this child-sized body. This one was a lot bigger, more suited for an adult, which was going to be a huge problem if he couldn't find some way of downsizing it.

"Alwayss looking for wayss to make us ssmaller. Make yoursself bigger instead," snake-tail hissed. It was getting really agitated, zigzagging back and forth over the baboon's back. "Kill him and it will happen."

It was a snide comment too far. Renji lost his temper. "Look, if you hate him so much, then fine, but we don't have time right now to argue about it because he's right out there," he jammed his thumb upward, "hunting for the both of us and I don't know about you but I ain't aiming to be Byakuya fodder!"

The strike came from nowhere and honestly it was the last thing Renji had been expecting. Snake-tail's fangs plunged into the juncture between neck and shoulder and Renji felt the cold/hot flood of poison into his body before they pulled out again. He reeled away, hand pressed to his neck, heart racing in shock as much as anything else. Because, what the hell? Zabimaru was supposed to be on his side, damn it!

A moment later, snake-tail's tongue caressed his cheek and it hissed, "Now be sstill, child, and listen."

"We don't have time-" the baboon began, warningly. 

"Silence!" snake-tail hissed, whipping round to face it. "There iss time enough now he is here and this has been going on long enough. His ssentimentality has crippled us for years. Now he intends to get us slaughtered through this ssame foolishness."

"You think me loving Byakuya cripples you?" Renji demanded, his stomach churning as his head started to spin. He hurled a pointed finger in the direction of the baboon. "He doesn't think that!" The baboon looked away, grimacing, showing off yellow fangs, and sudden doubt assailed Renji. "Do you?" he asked more quietly.

"He diminishes you," the baboon replied after a moment's pause, still avoiding Renji's gaze.

Renji squinted at it, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. If both parts of his zanpakutō hated Byakuya that much, what did that say about Renji's feelings for him? They were real, he knew they were. Byakuya was everything to him. 

The world was taking on a fuzzy warm quality, like he'd had a few too many cups of sake. Renji shook his head, trying to clear it.

"You also love the other one," Zabimaru said.

"Ichigo? Sure, I do," Renji replied. But that was different. What he felt for Ichigo was based on mutual respect and equality.

"And if you lost him?"

A world without Ichigo… would be an emptier sadder place. But survivable.

Byakuya though-

Renji's heart thudded and his mouth went dry as his mind tried to shy away from even thinking about losing Byakuya. But he couldn't not think about it, about losing him, about a world without Byakuya… A world without… 

His head spun, breath clogging his throat. Still he pressed on. Something in snake-tail's poison wouldn't let him look away. If Byakuya was gone… Dead… what would the world be… what would Renji's world be… what would _Renji_ be?

Nothing. 

Because Byakuya was his everything. Captain, lord, creator, definer. He was the one who'd taken a formless child and moulded him into who Renji was today. Without him, Renji would be nothing. And that… that was terrifying.

"Oh shit." Hands tightening into fists, Renji pressed his forehead into the ground. All these years, he'd thought it was love he was feeling. Believed it was love. The way his pulse raced when he saw Byakuya, the way he wanted to be with him, wanted to please him, wanted to protect him. But that wasn't love. That was fear. Not _of_ Byakuya, but of his own existence _outside_ of Byakuya. Because without Byakuya, what was he? Who was he?

"At lasst, he sees the truth," snake-tail hissed.

"But not all of it," the baboon replied. 

Behind closed eyes, Renji began to see images. Of himself as a kid, fighting to survive when the flood had ripped through Senjōchi camp, hearing Zabimaru's voice for the first time and following their instruction to climb higher up the tree. The terrible beating that had dyed Zabimaru's wrappings blood-red when they'd been breaking the seal, when he'd felt Zabimaru's presence wrapped around him, protecting him, and taken enough strength from that to stay alive. And the killing fields. The scrawny kid with the dusty top-knot, too terrified to fight until his courage rose along with a name and he'd released Zabimaru into the asauchi.

" _You_ did that, not him," the baboon said.

"And you've done nothing ssince."

"That's not true!" Renji protested. "I achieved bankai!" And that had to count for something, didn't it? But he still couldn't bring himself to raise his head and his nails were cutting gouges into his palms his fists were so tight. "I fought you and won!"

"You did not defeat me." Snake-tail's hiss took on a rattle and now Renji did lift his head. His mouth was dry, his pulse too fast, his head swimming. Sweat poured off him and the pit seemed full of flickering orange firelight. High above the baboon's back rose snake-tail, unchanged in itself, but its shadow on the wall behind had grown to twice the size, looming over Renji, hood flared wide and proud. The baboon's shadow too seemed bigger, more powerful, but its head was lowered as it bowed before Renji.

Twin souls. And he'd only defeated one. How could he have been so stupid not to realise. 

"Becausse you do not think. You feel, and say that is enough. Passion without reason makes us no more than beasts."

"And we are nue," the baboon put in, quietly. "We are demon."

Snake-tail spat and venom sizzled in the dust at Renji's feet. "Less than half demon while he refuses to be a part of uss."

A part of them? Shakily, Renji touched a finger to his own nose. "I-I'm nue?" 

"Of coursse, you fool," snake-tail hissed. "Look at us. How can a snake and a monkey alone make a nue."

The other parts were tiger and tanuki. Renji glanced down at himself, at the ink on skinny arms so close to tiger stripes that it couldn't be a co-incidence. But Byakuya had wanted them to follow the lines of his rope, not the lines in Renji's imagination, and so none of them were exactly where they should be.

Was that what Snake-tail meant? Would changing the tattoos set him free?

"Without you, we are only two parts of the whole," the baboon continued. "We have wisdom and instinct, but lack courage and humanity."

Lacked courage? Of all the things Zabimaru might lack, Renji would never in a million years accuse them of that. 

Snake-tail rattled a disgusted laugh. "You think I would lend you my sstrength, boy, if I had the courage to resist." His bankai. He'd felt the baboon's power within himself and had assumed snake-tail's was all contained in the giant snake. Which it was, just not in the way he'd thought. That was a borrowing, not a true joining. Not a true bankai.

"And I could not defeat you, even though I knew we weren't ready for the next step." The baboon's head lowered even further and now Renji could feel the shame coming from both of them. His own shame, mirrored in them, because in his heart of hearts, he'd known. All he'd had to do was look down at himself in his inner world, at this child-like form, to understand that from the moment he'd sworn to Byakuya, he'd stopped moving forwards. 

"What can I do?" It sounded desperate even to his own ears and with good reason. This was a conversation he should have had months ago, when there was time to have it. Not when Byakuya was breathing down their necks and about to consume them whole. He scrambled to his feet, belly tightening. "Shall I kill him? Is that what I need to do?" He didn't want to, though at least now he understood why. He could only hope that he could make Ichigo understand, otherwise he might lose both lovers.

Snake-tail hissed. "It's too late for that."

"If you kill him now, he will hollowfy immediately," the baboon added. And tear anything in his path to pieces. Like all those vulnerable human souls.

"So it's contain and control." Though how the hell he was going to do that, Renji had no idea. His mind was starting to clear but without bankai and in a child's body, armed only with a sword that was five sizes too big, how was he supposed to do anything?

"Remember, Renji, you are not alone."

That was true. But to embrace himself, he had to let the other go. Fear gripped at his throat, and was soothed away by the dry smoothness of snake-tail's belly. "Trust uss."

Renji closed his eyes. He did trust them. Unlike Byakuya, they'd always been there for him. Why had he ever started to doubt?

Letting go was like being consumed, and yet consuming at the same time. He became them, even as they became him; skin, fur, scales, merging into a single covering. Monkey, snake, tiger and tanuki becoming one, a single soul, that screamed in a semi-human voice with such power that it vaporised what remained of the seal into nothing, and shattered everything in its path. "Sōō, Zabimaru!"

When Renji opened his eyes again, his inner world had transformed. The pit was gone, replaced by a vast hot spring surrounded by black rocks which rose around him on three sides into towering snow-capped mountain peaks. Ahead, the land dropped away onto sprawling green meadows dotted with wildflowers and far away in the distance, more mountains rose. The whole was a vista of such magnificence that it took his breath away.

Was this him? Was this how his soul was truly meant to be? It was beautiful.

"Certainly nicser than the desert," came a self-satisfied hiss from the pool. 

Renji glanced back to find Zabimaru up to their necks in the hot water, snake-tail winding slowly back and forth, tongue flickering happily, while the baboon's fur stuck up in damp spikes, its face seeming to glow redder against the white steam. They looked smaller than they had before, until Renji realised that it wasn't them, it was him. He was bigger. The child's body was gone, he was an adult now, his clothing the fathomless black of a shihakushō, pure shinigami, if you ignored the added extras. 

He still had the furry cowl across his shoulders, though now it seemed to have a power all of its own. He flexed his left arm, felt the cowl move behind it and knew that all the might of the baboon king was his to command. And in his right hand was a sword, its hilt protected by a gauntlet that could have been the smaller twin of his old bankai. 

"Our sstrike is just a long," snake-tail hissed. "Try uss and see."

Renji did exactly that, falling into an exercise that would allow him to test both the reach and balance of the blade. And it was brilliant. Snake-tail was right. With it, they could strike from distance as well as up close, using power or speed. Renji could even feel the potential within it for a similar kidō blast to hikotsu taihō. In short, it was the perfect combination of his shikai and bankai.

Some of his joy must have bubbled over into Zabimaru. With a chuffing laugh, the baboon king ducked beneath the water, strong hands grabbing the snake-king and dragging it down too. It went with the most startled expression on its face that for a moment all Renji could do was hold his sides and laugh. 

But this couldn't last. Even as he enjoyed their antics, Renji could feel the storm rolling in. Finally embracing his true self might have driven Byakuya back, but it hadn't got rid of him entirely. They were still going to have to fight.

Only now Renji was actually looking forward to the battle because he knew it was one he could win. And then he would find somewhere to hold Byakuya safe until he and Ichigo could work out exactly how to fix him. Because he was fixable. Renji knew that too. Like he also knew that he loved him. Because, despite all his stuffiness and hard line posturing, Byakuya cared about others, and somehow managed to change himself to make room for that care. Renji had seen it when the guy had tried his best to be a teacher, even though he'd failed spectacularly both times. And when he'd bent his neck to Arisawa-sensei for help on Renji's behalf. 

Compared to the fear that had ruled Renji before, this love was a quiet small thing, but it was real nonetheless, like a faintly glowing ember close to his heart. 

And like an ember, it was the warmth of it that called to him. Because, right now, Byakuya needed him far more than he needed Byakuya. Renji knew that he could walk out there, lose Byakuya and survive. He would be heartbroken, but he would live, because he was properly himself now, his existence no longer reliant on Byakuya for validation. 

But he didn't want to live like that. As a nue, he was more-than-one, and that feeling extended beyond the parts of himself. It included Ichigo and Byakuya. So he was choosing not to be alone. He chose instead to offer freely the same thing that Byakuya had offered him. Strength, and someone to lift him up until he was strong enough to stand on his own once more. 

As reasons to love went, it wasn't much, but it was there. Given the right encouragement, the feeling would grow. But it could die too, if things didn't get sorted out between them. And in the meantime, Renji would get out there and fight because he would never turn his back on someone he loved. Not when there was even the slightest chance of saving them.

*

Since dying, Yuzu had never been back to the living world, and she'd been looking forward to going, especially since it meant not having to ride those awful pigs any further. But this 'dangai' place was even worse than pigs. Huge walls loomed over them, seething with flashes of light and shadow that Ryū-jichan said was time, but seemed to Yuzu like a monster ready to topple in on top of them at any moment, drowning them in forever.

It was taking so long to pass through, as well! They'd been travelling for ages, though apparently it would be like no time had passed at all when they got to the other side. How that was even possible, Yuzu didn't know. But she understood that they had to go quickly. She'd grasped that much from preparations on the other side. Once nii-chan had awakened the senkaimon with his tanto, everyone had got in a terrible hurry. Something about a cleaning schedule, though that made no sense either. It was obvious that no one could keep a place like this clean.

If Take were here, maybe Yuzu could have asked her what they meant. But she wasn't and never would be again. And it was all her fault.

"Are you okay, Yuzu-chan. Do you need a carry?"

Jerked out of her darkening thoughts, Yuzu gasped for breath and tried to smile at her cousin. "I'm *puff* fine *puff* thank you," she managed, somehow. Uryū-chan gave her a disbelieving look, which made Yuzu feel terrible. Karin had said that Uryū had been sick and Yuzu could see how thin he still was, and yet he was still offering to help her. He was slowing his pace to stay beside her too. Nii-chan was so far ahead by now that Yuzu could hardly see him against the dangai's dark walls. If she slowed down anymore, Ryū-jichan, who was their 'rear guard', would catch up.

She glanced back to see if she could see him, realised he was closing fast, and tried to put on a spurt of speed, though the stitch in her side burned and her throat was sore from her gasping breaths. But when she looked to the front again, she saw that nii-chan had stopped, and seemed to be talking to someone. 

A moment later, Uryū put out a hand and stopped her too, their pace slowing to a halt some distance behind nii-chan and a man with dark hair dressed like a shinigami. 

"Who is he?" Yuzu whispered.

Uryū shook his head. "I don't know. Do you, father?"

Ryū-jichan came up behind them. "No, I don't," he said as he stepped past. "Stay here with your cousin. I'll go and find out."

Uryū looked on the verge of protesting, but jichan was already gone. Instead he huffed and glared down at Yuzu, making that odd gesture that started as adjusting the glasses he no longer wore and ended up with tucking his hair behind his ear. "You should keep moving," he said. "If your muscles cool down too much, you'll have problems when we start running again."

Again? Yuzu wanted to weep at the idea, but she did as she was told, jogging slowly on the spot, though it was more like a tired sway. Somehow she felt things like running should be easier now she was a Quincy, but they weren't, and she was starting to sweat inside the new winter outfit Kūkaku had given her. She tugged at the neck of the woollen coat. "How much further do you think it is?" 

"Not far, I don't think, though I can't say for sure. I don't really remember coming through here the last time."

Yuzu didn't either. She didn't remember anything after shinigami stormed into her and Karin's bedroom until she'd woken up later at the 13th. Though it was strange recalling that night now. Tsukishima had been a part of the memory for so long that the real one felt almost like a fake.

She wished all her memories were like that, but most of them were all too real. It had been her who told Soifon-fukutaichō about Isane-san's camp, no one else. 

But nii-chan said none of that was her fault, so Yuzu swallowed hard and pushed it aside, digging deep for a smile and an encouraging word. "Perhaps he's a friend."

Beside her, Uryū straightened up. "Something's happening." 

Nii-chan and Ryū-jichan were jogging back towards them, the shinigami following a few steps behind. All their expressions looked sombre and Yuzu's belly clenched. Surely nothing else could have gone wrong.

"So, apparently there's trouble at the other end," nii-chan said when he got to them. His hands and the top part of his face were still a bit red and dotted with scabs, but thanks to Ryu-jichan's efforts, he was mostly healed. He jerked a thumb at the shinigami who'd stopped several metres away and was frowning as he watched them. "That's Iba Tetsuzaemon. He was helping out some friends in the living world when they were attacked and…" 

For some reason nii-chan words drifted to a stop there, his face twisty and sad. Yuzu was about to ask what was wrong when Ryū-jichan shot him a strange look, tsked and said, "We've told him that we'll help."

"Right. Shit- erm, sugar." Nii-chan scrubbed at the back of his head and seemed to pull himself out of whatever thoughts he'd got tangled up in. He still looked upset though. "Thing is, the ones who attacked them were Renji and Byakuya."

Yuzu gasped. "Renji-san? I thought he was in jail!" That's what Tsukishima had said. That he'd been sent to jail after she testified against him.

Hand poised over his neck, nii-chan shot her a startled look. "Ah, yeah, no. Byakuya kind of rescued him before it got that far."

Understanding bloomed in Yuzu's chest: Byakuya-sama must have known that Renji wasn't guilty. "Is that why he killed Central 46?" she asked breathlessly. If it was, it made the whole thing seem much more noble, and far more the kind of thing the Byakuya-sama she remembered would do. Though it didn't explain why they were attacking civilians now. 

Nii-chan's hand dropped to his side and he seemed to sag. "You know, I haven't a clue. But if there's civilians involved then we've got to help."

"If only to prevent Iba from returning to Seireitei for back up."

Nii-chan pulled a face at Ryū-jichan for that but nodded.

"In case he reports to the 2nd?" Yuzu wondered. She still wasn't entirely sure who was in charge at the 2nd. Her memories suggested it was probably Tsukishima by now, though Urahara-taichō might be too clever to get caught. And even if he had been, it wasn't her fault. Nii-chan said it wasn't, and she had to believe him. 

She wished he'd told her about Renji-san earlier though.

"Oh, Iba's not Gotei," nii-chan said with an almost laugh. He glanced back at the person, the not-shinigami, Iba Tetsuzaemon. "His family run the fighting pits down near the 12th."

"Amongst other things," jichan put in disapprovingly.

Yuzu frowned. She'd heard of the fighting pits, though she'd never wanted to visit them. Not that Unohana-taichō would have let her go. She disapproved strongly of any fighting outside the regulated structures of the Gotei 13 so, as far as she was concerned, everyone involved in that kind of thing was basically a criminal. 

"Anyway," nii-chan was saying, "We should get going." He smiled down at Yuzu. "You want a ride? I've got a piggy-back going spare if you want it."

Going at nii-chan's speed, it didn't take them long at all to get to the other end of the dangai. Yuzu clung on all the way and only reluctantly slid off again when nii-chan pointed out that, if there really was trouble, he might have to fight as soon as they went through the gate.

"That's why I'm going first," he said, "with Iba and oji-san. You wait here with Uryū." 

He untangled her fingers from the sleeve of his shihakushō and, as he turned to leave, clapped Uryū on the shoulder. Uryū-chan's chin dipped, his eyes closing but he didn't say anything as the senkaimon opened and the others went through to a blast of light and sound. 

When the gate closed again, it left an awkward silence in its wake. As the seconds ticked past, Yuzu shuffled her feet, staring at her clasped hands and wondering what to say. Uryū was her cousin, conversation wasn't supposed to be difficult between them, but the only things she could think of to say were 'sorry' and, 'I promise I didn't send the 2nd after you'.

Which was true, but only because no one had asked her about them. If they had, Yuzu would have spilled everything, like she had about Karin and Sado-san and how they planned to leave for the living world through the Kyōraku senkaimon.

Had the 2nd caught up with them there? Ryū-jichan said the senkaimon was well-guarded by the time he and Uryū-chan arrived, but Karin had been days ahead of them, so maybe she'd made it through okay. And Tsukishima hadn't said anything. Yuzu thought he probably would have if Karin had been caught. He was very [honest] cruel that way.

As her stomach clenched on worry and fear, she screwed her hands into fists. Nii-chan would be so mad at her for thinking this way. None of it was her fault. He'd said it wasn't. But those reassurances felt a million miles away right now and for a brief stupid second Yuzu wished her brother back beside her, protecting her, not some strangers that none of them even knew. 

But that was a wrong thought. Nii-chan was through the gate, with people who deserved his help. It was up to Yuzu to rescue herself this time. Which meant that standing here staring at the gate in the hopes it was going to open again straightaway was silly and pointless. She should use the time productively, as Unohana-taichō always told her, to refocus her wayward mind. Like Uryū was doing. He'd folded down in front of the gate and seemed to be meditating. Or maybe dozing. It was difficult to tell, since his head rested in his hands and his hair had fallen forward over his face.

Yuzu looked around for somewhere to sit. Not close to the walls, that was for sure. Stable they might be, but they'd still suck her in if she touched them and then she'd be trapped forever. Getting any closer to the senkaimon didn't feel like a good idea either, just in case it opened suddenly and she fell out, so finally, she simply knelt down where she was and rested her hands on her knees, as she would have in Unohana-taichō's office.

From there it was relatively easy to drop into a light meditation and it was only when her stomach rumbled loudly that Yuzu jerked back to awareness. She pushed a hand against her belly, flushing in embarrassment, but Uryū-chan didn't seem to have noticed. He was still sat with his head down, though now Yuzu could see he was staring at the ground as though concentrating on something. 

"Can you hear them?" Yuzu asked curiously after several moments.

"What?" Uryū said, looking up and frowning like she'd interrupted something. "No, I was doing some calculations." His expression turned grim. "By my reckoning, we'd have to wait here for a week to give them even a five minute head start and there's no chance that the cleaner won't turn up before than." He shook his head and stood up. "This is ridiculous. I don't care what that idiot says, we're going through now."

Oh, thank goodness for that! Yuzu clambered to her feet with a deep sense of relief. As she went to move forward though, Uryū stuck out an arm. "Stay behind me. We still have no idea what we're getting into."

Yuzu nodded and stayed where she was as he reached out and slid the gate open. Sound, light and motion exploded in and Yuzu felt herself being sucked out into the real world. She staggered and might have fallen if Uryū hadn't caught her. Together they managed to stay upright and stumbled into a wide open space that stank of oil and damp. 

"You punched him!" someone was yelling. Nii-chan?

Yuzu blinked and squinted, trying to get her brain to start working properly again. Was moving worlds always like this, a frenetic whirl of colour and motion? 

"He's unconscious." That was Ryū-jichan voice, definitely.

Uryū's hand left her arm and for a brief second Yuzu was in free-fall, spinning. Then her eyes latched onto the ugly mish-mish that was nii-chan's reiryoku and everything snapped into focus as her new Quincy ability switched off and material reality finally superimposed itself over the purely spiritual. 

They were in a car workshop and there were people everywhere, talking and moving. Policemen and medics and lots of others that she didn't know.

Feeling more than a bit overwhelmed, Yuzu focused on the people she did recognise. Ryū-jichan was kneeling beside Iba Tetsuzaemon, who was spreadeagled on the floor like a boxer who'd been knocked out. As she watched, her uncle began moving him into the recovery position. 

Standing over them was nii-chan, chin out and arms folded like he did when he was mad at someone. And the person he was mad at was- "Sado-san!"

Yuzu had never in her life been happier to see someone, because if Sado-san was here, then Karin had to be safe too. He'd never in a million years have left her behind. 

A relieved grin curled across Sado's face when he saw her. "Yuzu. You're here. I'm glad," which from him was as good as a whoop of happiness.

"I still don't get how you lost her," nii-chan grumped, scowling between the pair of them but obviously affected by how relieved they were. "I assume Karin's with you."

Sado nodded, and Yuzu's heart skipped a happy beat. 

"Good," nii-chan said, pausing for a moment before returning to his previous complaint, "Oi, you still haven't explained why you punched Iba out!"

"Because he was behind all of this," a man's deep voice said practically above Yuzu's head. 

Yuzu turned, jumped and squeaked. A hugely tall foreigner with very dark skin and bright yellow hair loomed over her, holding a woman with tear-streaked cheeks tight under his arm. For a split second Yuzu thought the man was a kidnapper, until she saw how the woman's fingers tangled in the man's torn shirt and how carefully his hand pressed against her side.

"And you are?" nii-chan said, his body language screaming challenge.

"Ernesto Zommari," the man said, then, gesturing to the woman at his side, added, "And this is my wife, Ikumi. I don't know if you know them, but I'm a friend of Renji and Byakuya's."

"Byakuya? Renji?" Nii-chan's voice went up about half an octave and he spun around, searching. "They're here? Where- ah!" He plunged past Sado, who stepped aside far enough for Yuzu to see Renji sitting cross-legged on the ground several metres behind him. He looked beaten and bruised, his eyes closed tight, and his spiritual energy… Yuzu looked, and looked again, her new sight coming to the fore. His reiatsu wasn't bad but his reiryoku was very strange. Not quite the same ugly patchwork as nii-chan's but there were bits in it that didn't belong to him and when Yuzu followed the string that drew away from his body, she found that it led straight to someone else.

"Byakuya-sama?" she gasped. Unlike how nii-chan and Renji-san's reiryoku was made up of lots of different kinds, Byakuya-sama's was full of holes. In fact, it was more hole than reiryoku, and with every moment that passed, the edges of the holes wept themselves bigger. "What's happening to him?" she asked, stepping forward to go and help.

Before she could get far, someone grabbed her arm. It was the big foreigner, Zommari. "You don't want to do that, girlie," he said, pulling a face. "He's not safe right now." He was trying to smile, Yuzu realised but his face was too swollen to move properly so it looked odd. 

She made herself smile back. "Yuzu," she said. "And I have to, he needs help." 

"That he does. But from specialists, not you."

"Listen to him. He knows what he's talking about," Ikumi said. Her voice sounded croaky, like maybe she'd not finished crying yet. "The guy's a druggie. He could flip at any second."

Drugs? Yuzu spun back around to take another look, this time making herself see both the material and the spiritual. Byakuya was on his knees, rocking back and forth, staring at… Renji, Yuzu thought. He was also somehow doubled, like there was two of him. One, on the outside, who looked kind of how she remembered, though much thinner and dirtier. And the other, inside, that was skeletal and clawed with a bulging belly and a screaming hungry mouth.

She took a step back, shaken. 

"Addict, not druggie," Zommari was saying, but Yuzu couldn't believe that. She seen shinigami on drugs at the 4th. It wasn't common because only the very richest families could afford to pay for treatment, but it did happen and they'd never looked anything like this. 

There was a fuss behind her. Two policemen had come to help Zommari and his wife. As they began to move away, Zommari called back, "It's even worse when he's out of the gigai." And that was the final piece of the jigsaw that Yuzu needed. Of course, the outer layer was a fake body. The real Byakuya was the screaming skeleton inside, it was just that the gigai was breaking down under the pressure. Quite quickly too, if she was any judge.

"That gigai's about to fail," Uryū-chan said coming up beside her.

She glanced at him and nodded. "I agree. And we need to find him a new one before it does." Because whatever was wrong with Byakuya-sama, Zommari was right about him being dangerous.

"The closest will be at the hospital." Uryū raised his voice slightly. "Ichigo, do you have any idea where we are?"

Nii-chan, who for some reason was sitting in front of Renji holding his hand, looked over. "No idea- Holy shit, is that Byakuya!" 

Before anyone could stop him, he was across the room, grabbing Byakuya by the shoulders, and Yuzu could see exactly what was going to happen moments before it did. The string of reiatsu that went from Byakuya to Ichigo tightened up like a hawser on a ship and sliced through the gigai. The skeleton boiled out of it, accompanied by a blast of reiatsu that blew nii-chan over onto his back, leaving him totally vulnerable when the monster flew at his throat.

"Nii-chaan!" Yuzu screamed as Uryū produced his bow and let loose a cluster of arrows. They missed Byakuya by millimetres and only because a spray of reiatsu rods got him first, picking him up and slamming him through the shelves and into the wall beyond. He writhed, screaming, as what was left of the gigai peeled away in strips. Somewhere over the other side of the workshop, someone else cried out in horror.

"Bakudō sixty three, sajō sabaku!" Yellow kidō ropes dropped from the air above Byakuya, whipping into place around him, clamping his arms to his body. His head thrashed from side to side, the volume of his screams rising to ear-piercing levels that had Yuzu cringing away until, with absolutely no warning, they stopped completely. Byakuya went limp, hanging from the wall like a dead thing while, across the workshop, Renji's reiatsu suddenly exploded outward in a blast that flattened everyone who was still on their feet. 

"What the hell was that?" nii-chan demanded a second later. Being down already must have given him an advantage because he was already back up, crouched halfway between Renji and Byakuya, his expression frantic as he looked from one to the other. He didn't even spare a glance for Sado-san, which seemed strange considering they were boyfriends. In fact, nii-chan hadn't given Sado-san much attention at all since they'd arrived. He seemed far more interested in Renji and Byakuya.

A huge man with pink hair, who Yuzu thought might have cast the kidō, said in a ponderous voice, "This will not hold if he wakens again. If you wish to preserve his life, he must be sealed by something stronger."

"Like what?" nii-chan asked, rising and scrubbing his hands through his hair. He began pacing back and forth, desperate, like he was torn between which one of his friends to go to first, his eyes red like he was about to cry.

"Another gigai would work," Ryū-jichan suggested, stalking past nii-chan to peer at Byakuya more closely, "With the right adjustments, I can stop it burning through almost indefinitely."

"The hospital then," Uryū said, making a move towards Renji.

Ryū-jichan frowned. "No, that's where the others are, so it wouldn't be safe. Better to take him back to Naruki-shi. That way, if he breaks free, there'll be fewer souls around for him to prey on." He glanced over at the pink man. "I am right in thinking that he's sundered, yes?"

The pink man blinked as though surprised that Ryū-jichan recognised what it was, but nodded. "It is possible. And going by the severity of his symptoms, is in the final stages."

So it wasn't drugs! Yuzu knew it couldn't have been. 

"Then you'll be willing to help us transport him?"

The pink man looked longingly towards the senkaimon. 

"You know we can't let you go back," Sado-san said. He had Iba Tetsuzaemon held securely in front of him by both arms, though he didn't look like he was going anywhere. A livid bruise was beginning to show on his cheek and his knees kept buckling. Concussion, Yuzu diagnosed. Sado-san must have hit him very hard. 

"Please, Nana-san," nii-chan put in. "None of us is as good at kidō as you."

"Hachigen," Sado-san said pointedly.

"Huh?" Nii-chan glanced at him, then back at the pink man. "Oh right, Hachigen, sorry." He scowled and muttered, "I knew it was a number."

"That's quite alright, Shiba-sama," said Hachigen, bowing. "I'm amazed you remember me at all."

"Course I do. You saved Chad's life, which is how I know you won't let us down now."

Hachigen hesitated before straightening up again with a sigh. "I will help you, but only on condition that you allow me to return to Seireitei afterwards. As Iba-neesan's main healer, I have responsibilities"

Nii-chan looked uncomfortable. "Iba-neesan-"

Hachigen raised a hand. "I will tell her nothing about you and your family, Shiba-sama, I give you my word. But if no one returns at all, she will send others to investigate and they have connections here that the human police know nothing about."

Nii-chan's eyebrows rose and he glanced at Sado-san. "He's got a point." 

Sado-san nodded silently. Nii-chan turned back to Hachigen. "How about this, you help get Byakuya and Renji over to the apartment and I'll open a senkaimon there for you, save you having to come all the way back out here."

"That would be acceptable," Hachigen said. "However I would appreciate it if you could keep _him_ under lock and key in this world." He indicated Iba Tetsuzaemon. "It will be very difficult for me to convince Iba-neesan that there was an accident in the dangai if her son turns up alive." 

"Hah! Yeah, okay, we can do that," nii-chan said before frowning and turning to Ryū-jichan. "We can do that, can't we?"

"Yes, Ichigo, we can hold him, for a while at least. Though it might be simpler to execute him."

Nii-chan shook his head. "No way. Not without a proper trial, otherwise we're no better than those bastards in Central who wanted to kill Renji."

As they were talking, Zommari approached again. He had a different woman with him this time, a medic dressed in a two-tone blue uniform. "You're Ichigo?" he asked. "Renji and Byakuya's Ichigo?"

Nii-chan's jaw lifted and went tight. "You got a problem with that?"

Zommari raised a hand, shaking his head. "Not at all, mate, you're just not what I expected when Byakuya said they had a third."

"Yeah? What were you expecting then, a girl?" Nii-chan was up on his toes, like he might try and fight. Sado-san too looked more alert.

Yuzu held her breath as Zommari laughed, "No, he said you were a bloke. I just… I dunno, I guess when he said they left you behind, I thought you'd be older."

Nii-chan scowled but subsided. "I'm not a kid. I'm a captain in the Gotei 13."

"Erm, excuse me?" the woman beside Zommari said. Everyone turned to look at her. She was blushing furiously, but didn't back down. "I was told that some of you might need a ride to the hospital, only if you do, could we go now because we're really kind of busy?" 

"I'm sorry," Ryū-jichan said immediately, nii-chan and Uryū backing him up with mumbled apologies of their own. "There's going to be quite a few of us though." He looked around as though counting heads. "I don't think we'll all fit in the same vehicle and Byakuya should definitely be isolated as far as possible."

"We've got a couple of different vehicles, so we can get you all where you need to be," said a scruffy man in a leather jacket with messy bleached-orange hair. He'd wandered over after Zommari and the medic and had stood listening in on the conversation. Nodding to nii-chan now, he said, "Ginjō Kūgo, Department of Specialist Affairs. I was working with Renji over there. And that's my boss, Superintendent Kojima." 

He pointed to a large hairy man in a black furry coat talking to Ikumi over by the main doors. She was clutching a small boy who seemed torn between hugging her back and trying to show her something on the ground. As the child swung from her arms, Kojima turned to help catch him, and Yuzu spotted the broken soul chain dangling from his chest. 

"Or used to be, I guess," Ginjō finished. "I don't quite know what happens now."

"Now, he gets konso'd," nii-chan said, drawing his tanto and setting off towards him.

"Hey! There's no need for any of that now!" Ginjō said, grabbing his arm. "He's already dead, so he's not gonna be harming anyone."

Nii-chan scowled at him. "He will if you leave him like that," he said. He jabbed a finger at Byakuya hanging from the wall. "See him? Your boss'll be worse if he hollowfys, believe me."

"But if you konso him, he could turn up anywhere in Soul Society," Uryū-chan pointed out. "Wouldn't it better to take him with us and keep an eye on him. If he hollowfys, father or I could kill him."

"No!" Ryū-jichan snapped immediately. "I will not willingly do that to another soul, and nor will you when there are other options available."

Uryū-chan flushed as he met his father's gaze and his jaw twitched like he wanted to argue, but he stayed silent. Nii-chan folded his arms and glanced between the two of them nervously. "You're right about him turning up anywhere, Uryū, but we can't destroy him either, oji-san's right."

"Exactly," Ryū-jichan said. "The most logical solution is to send him through the senkaimon the next time we open one into Ginzan. I'm sure Kūkaku-san can find a use for him." Yuzu boggled at that idea, but didn't comment.

"Good plan," nii-chan said, sheathing his tanto much to Ginjō's obvious relief. "That way he won't have to be konso'd at all." 

In the end, Hachigen and Ryū-jichan travelled with Byakuya-sama in an ambulance. The only other person to go with them was the medic who was driving. It wasn't safe for anyone else, they said. 

The rest of them split into several groups. Zommari and Ikumi-san had to go the police-station and give statements. Their son went with them. Kojima-san and most of the others needed to go to Karakura hospital, where the saferoom would keep them hidden from any patrolling shinigami or hunting hollows. Sado-san was going with them, along with Iba Tetsuzaemon. Apparently there was a place there they could keep him locked up.

That left only the four of them; Yuzu herself, Uryū, nii-chan, and Renji. And why was Yuzu the only one who seemed the slightest bit worried about him still being unconscious? Currently, he was draped across nii-chan's arms as they all followed Ginjō outside to catch their ride. 

It was surprisingly peaceful outside the confines of the workshop. The sun was close to coming up and the sky was pink and pale green with the growing dawn.

"You'd best get in the back," Ginjō said to nii-chan, hauling open the side door of a battered old delivery van. "No way he'll fit in the front." 

Inside there was just a bare metal floor with no seats or even cushions to sit on. It was completely inappropriate for transporting a sick person, especially one with a potential head injury. Yuzu took one look and said, "Hang on a minute. I'll be right back," because someone somewhere had to at least have a blanket or something they could use for Renji-san to lie on. 

Ignoring nii-chan's exasperated, "Yuzu!" she dashed back into the building, dodging white clad forensics people and policemen with clipboards and cameras. This time she needed to do the right thing by Renji-san. He'd almost been sent to prison before because of things Yuzu had said, and maybe if she could get this right, it would fix things just a little bit so that maybe he wouldn't think so badly of her when he did wake up and-

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't see the person coming the other way until she bounced off them. "Sorry, sorry," Yuzu squeaked before realising who it was. 

Isane-san's expression morphed from apologetic to shocked to furious almost too fast to track. Yuzu flinched away as the full power of it hit her, and then the healer was gone, hurrying out of the door and across the stained concrete towards a cluster of people gathered beside a police minibus. 

Yuzu watched her go, heart thundering in her chest and mind in a whirl. Isane-san was here! She was safe! Despite everything Yuzu had told Soifon-fukutaichō, and despite the terrible things Tsukishima had said afterwards, they hadn't been caught and arrested. 

Relief flashed through her, along with hope. Maybe Isane-san being here meant everything would be okay. 

Then the memory of Isane-san's expression came back to her and her heart sank, because if they were here and Isane-san was looking at her like that, then they knew that she'd been the one to turn them in. Worse, they didn't know it was Tsukishima who'd made her do it, and she had no way to tell them them truth. And even if she did, they had no reason to believe her. As far as they were concerned, she was just some noble girl who'd run away from their camp in the middle of the night and then the 2nd division had turned up to catch them, so no, nothing was ever going to be okay again. 

The taste of copper flooded Yuzu's tongue. She winced, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. It came away bloody. She must have been biting her lip so hard that she'd made it bleed. 

Scrubbing the evidence away with her other hand, she went to find something for Renji to lie on. Small tasks. That was what she needed. Things she could do that wouldn't cause any more harm.

She'd just spotted a leather couch through an office doorway and was about to try dragging a couple of cushions off it when she spotted a familiar figure. "Karin-chan!" she cried, abandoning her effort and running across the workshop to launch herself at her twin. 

People probably stopped to stare, but Yuzu didn't care for a second as she sobbed in relief on Karin's shoulder. Not only was her sister really alive, but she could explain everything to Isane-san if Yuzu could just get her to understand. 

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to tell them, but- but Tsukishima-sensei's zanpakutō made me be his best friend and I had to tell him about everyone because he was my best friend, my only friend, and he asked where they were and I had to tell him and I'm so sorry. I'm so-so sorry." The words spilled out in an unending river of guilt, no matter how hard she tried to hold them back or turn them into something more rational. "I couldn't stop it happening and I told them everything, about the camp and Isane-san and everything, and they said they were going to arrest everyone and there was nothing I could do and- Please tell them I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"Okay, that's enough, you can get off now," Karin grumped. She was bristly and Yuzu didn't blame her. 

With a final reluctant squeeze, Yuzu unwound her arms from around Karin's neck. "I'm just so sorry. I didn't mean to put everyone in danger-"

"I get it," Karin snapped. "You already said, like a thousand times. Tsukishima was in your head and made you do it." Her gaze cut away and she folded her arms. "I'm not sure the others are gonna be so forgiving though. You might wanna stay away from Karakura General for a bit."

Considering how Isane-san had looked at her, Yuzu had to agree. She nodded and continued wiping at her eyes. "I'll stay at Ryū-jichan's apartment with nii-chan until you say it's safe to come and see them," she said. "But please, tell them I'm really sorry and if there's anything I can do to make it better-"

"You turned them in to the Gotei, the people who'd been hunting them for years," Karin retorted. "They lost their homes and people they loved got killed. I think it's gonna take more than an apology."

Of course it was. It would for Karin too. Though she did seem to believe what Yuzu had said about Tsukishima. "He did things to Take's mind as well," Yuzu said, her stomach twisting. "She came back to get me from the camp but it was all a trap." She still wasn't sure who's or how, but it didn't really matter. The 2nd belonged to Tsukishima now. Or Soifon-fukutaichō did anyway.

"I guessed that she'd been the one to grab you." Karin glanced around. "She here too, or did you leave her behind?"

More tears welled. Yuzu slammed the heels of hands into her eyes and forced out, "She's dead. Take's dead. She was killed when the 2nd ambushed us."

"Shit." Karin's voice was low and furious. Then she sighed. "I'm sorry. She was good people."

Yuzu nodded, eyes squeezed shut, not able to speak. How could she. Take's death was all her fault. It didn't matter what nii-chan said, all of this was her fault.

"It's not your fault, you know." 

Typical Karin, trying to make her feel better. Yuzu clamped her jaw on a sob and managed, "That's what nii-chan keeps saying. And Ryū-jichan too." Even cousin Kūkaku had said it when Yuzu had cried all over her as she'd been getting her new clothes.

"Then you should believe them." An arm wrapped round her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. "Come on, stupid, you've cried long enough. It's time to smile now."

Karin was right. Yuzu sniffed mightily, scrubbed at her face one last time and did her best to obey. "How-How come you're here anyway?" she asked.

"Eh, it's kind of complicated," Karin replied. "We were over at the hospital when there was this blast of reiatsu from outside and when we went to find out what it was, this little kid was there yelling about how his dad was being chased by the bad guys and that they'd already got his mom." She shrugged and continued, "Honestly, we'd have gone back to the saferoom at that point except he mentioned Renji and the captain by name, so we kind of had to check it out. It was pretty easy to pick up the trail since the kid's dad was the one with all the reiatsu, so Sado, me and Isane-san followed him and ended up here. I've no idea who called the police though."

Actually Yuzu had been wondering if they'd managed to get to the Kyōraku senkaimon before it was closed down, but this story was good too. Anything that took her mind off things was good. 

She opened her mouth to ask more but from outside some called, "Karin!" It was Sado-san. He was stood beside the minibus and everyone else was on board.

Karin grimaced. "I've got to go. Sorry." She punched Yuzu softly on the arm. "I'll try and get over to see you later, okay? 

Yuzu nodded and tried to force a smile onto her face. It must have worked a bit because some of the worry in Karin's eyes faded. "Listen to Ichi-nii. He might be a jerk, but sometimes he knows what he's talking about."

"I will." Yuzu reached out and gave her twin a fierce hug. "Thank you for believing in me."

Karin's answering smile was more like a grimace, a sideways slash across her face that didn't look even the littlest bit happy, but Yuzu let her go anyway.

*

Nii-chan had Renji settled in the rear of the van by the time Yuzu got back, though he seemed happy enough to roll him onto the salvaged blanket once Yuzu laid it out. His unsheathed sword they tucked carefully up against his chest, then nii-chan sat beside him, holding tight to the metal struts to keep them both in place.

Yuzu jammed herself in by Renji's feet and did the same thing, while Uryū kept his distance, staying at the other end of the van, next to the door. 

As Ginjō slid the door closed, the back of the van was plunged into darkness. Yuzu bit her lip to stop from squeaking because that would be silly, and was rewarded a moment later when another door slammed and the shutter into driver's cab opened, letting in some much needed morning light. 

"Hang on tight. She's a bit of a bitch to drive," Ginjō called cheerfully from the front, and the engine roared to life.

They thumped down a couple of kerbs and then were on the road proper. Yuzu clung to the struts, her gaze coming naturally to rest on Uryū, who was curled in the corner at the far end of the van. He wasn't looking at her. If anything, he seemed to not want to be there at all, so Yuzu averted her eyes, focusing instead on the small patch of sky just visible through the windshield. If she craned her neck, she could just catch quick glimpses of buildings or traffic signs as they went by. 

They were home, back in the living world. Except this wasn't home, not anymore. Seireitei was where they lived, in the Shiba mansion with its shoji screens and wooden floors. But even if they did go back, it wouldn't really feel like home. Not with Take's death haunting her.

Nii-chan had said that wasn't Yuzu's fault either, but seeing Isane-san again had made it clear just how much that wasn't true. Yuzu was the only reason Take had been targeted. Tsukishima had only gone after her because she was Yuzu's guard. And now she was dead.

Tears welled in Yuzu's eyes again and she ground them away with the heels of her hands, annoyed with herself for keeping crying. Take would be so mad at her for the way she'd been behaving. She'd tell Yuzu in no uncertain terms that she needed to fix things, not wail and make a fuss.

But how did you make amends when the things you'd done were so awful? Yuzu had no idea where to even start.

Hoping that nii-chan might be able to help like he had earlier, Yuzu looked towards her brother and ended up watching him instead of talking because, for some reason he had Renji-san's head resting in his lap and was curled over him, fingers stroking gently through short red hair.

Even in the dim light, Renji-san looked very different without his braid. His face was sharper, his forehead tattoos more defined, and when nii-chan started tracing those too, Yuzu suddenly felt like an intruder. In an effort to distance herself, she let her vision drift back to the spiritual plane again to take a closer look at both their insides, and what she found startled a gasp out of her. 

"Do you see something?"

Yuzu jumped, vision flicking back to normal as she focused on her big brother. He still wasn't looking at her, but the question was aimed at her, she was sure. "There's something strange going on with your spiritual energy," she said.

Finally he looked up. He was frowning but there was a residual gentleness in his eyes that didn't belong to her. "Strange? How?"

Did he really want to know? Back in Soul Society, between pig-riding and meeting cousin Kūkaku and hurrying to get through the senkaimon, they hadn't really had much of a chance to talk about how her new ability worked. Now she was feeling nervous, especially about the strings she'd seen connecting Renji and nii-chan to Byakuya-sama. 

Chewing her lip, she let her vision slip back towards the spiritual and started with the easier bit. "Here," she said, shuffling across the floor so she could touch the tip of her finger to her brother's wrist. "Your reiatsu is coming out here and going…" she followed its wavering curl through the air into Renji-san's wrist, "…into him here. His is doing the same." She traced the red curl back into her brother's wrist. It really was the strangest thing Yuzu had ever seen. She had no idea that shinigami could even share reiryoku like this, though she knew Unohana-taichō and Yamada-san could do transfusions, so maybe this was similar but on a much smaller scale. 

"Really?" Nii-chan's arm moved and, although she couldn't see expressions when her sight was like this, she could imagine him frowning at his wrist like he could see the reiatsu too if he just looked hard enough. Maybe he could. After all, he was a Quincy just like her. 

"It ends up here," she continued, hovering a hand over Renji's chest, just above his heart. "There's a pocket of your reiryoku and some of Byakuya-sama's too." That must be from the string. She glanced up and checked out her brother's chest. "You have the same thing. Some of Byakuya-sama's and a few wisps of Renji-san's, though it's much harder to see because of all the other…"

As she spoke, Yuzu realised that nii-chan had gone very still. She let the rest of the sentence go unspoken. "Are you sure?" he asked after a moment. "Byakuya's reiryoku is in both of us?"

Did that mean he didn't know about the strings? Now she really needed to tell him. "It's coming from the strings of reiatsu that connect him to you and Renji-san. I saw them earlier-"

"Strings? Like the same thing that connects Renji and me?"

"No. It's different. The strings look much more solid, like they're there all the time, and both of them are all Byakuya-sama's reiatsu." There wasn't a trace of red or black in either of them, which hardly seemed fair. Perhaps she was missing something.

Leaning in, she examined Renji-san's wrist more closely, and there, just outside the reiatsu vent, was a little tail of red reiatsu, like the end of another string that someone had snipped off. 

"Snipped off?" nii-chan repeated when she told him. 

"Uhuh," Yuzu replied, finding the same thing on her brother's wrist easily now she knew what she was looking for. "Yours too." She reached out and tried to pinch the end of the black string between her thumb and forefinger. It went to nothing, like fog did when you tried to catch it, and then reformed when she moved her hand away.

Letting her vision revert, she saw nii-chan place his hand over Renji's chest before dropping his head back to thump against van's side. "Shit," he muttered, thumping his head again, eyes closed, and for once Yuzu didn't bother correcting him. She had a feeling he wouldn't hear her even if she did.


	28. Road to the Lost and Found

After what Yuzu had told him about the reiatsu strings, the journey to the apartment became intolerable. Ichigo spent his time torn between panicking that he was making Renji worse with all this reiryoku sharing, and terror that Byakuya being cut off from them was what had caused him to get 'sundered'. 

What the hell did that even mean anyway? Was it anything like what had happened with mom and dad? 

He almost asked Uryū if he knew, but going by the look on his cousin's face as he sat glaring at his knees over in the corner of the van, he was still sulking from Ryūken's reprimand. And probably from Ichigo taking his dad's side too. So, when they finally pulled up outside Ryūken and Uryū's old apartment block, Ichigo couldn't wait to go and find someone who might know.

Leaving Uryū and Yuzu to do the social bit, Ichigo hauled Renji up in his arms and stepped through the back of the van, landing a couple of feet down on the gravelled drive. The sun was finally up properly, so he had no difficulties spotting the ambulance pulling in on the opposite side of the parking area.

Before Ichigo got even halfway to it though, the rear doors opened and Ryūken waved him off. "Don't come any closer," he called. "He's showing signs of agitation."

Ichigo backed up immediately and almost ran over Uryū who was standing right behind him. Uryū gave him a snooty look, flicked a similar one over at his dad and said, "We should go down to the training room. I'm sure that's where father plans to work."

Training room? The last time Ichigo had been here, the apartment had been a 2LDK, though the rooms were spacious enough to make it feel much bigger. Not training room big though.

Straining his shoulders to keep Renji's feet from trailing, because honestly the guy hadn't gotten any shorter or lighter over the past few months, Ichigo followed as Uryū led him in the front doors and then, instead of up the stairs, left down a narrow corridor that ended in a heavy door with a 'No Entry' sign on it. Uryū pushed it open and held it without comment for Ichigo to pass through. There were concrete steps on the other side, lit by the sort of bulkhead lights that screamed emergency exits and fire escapes. But this couldn't be either, since it was going below ground.

Ichigo set off down them anyway. He was starting to suspect that this building wasn't as simple as it appeared from the outside, so he wasn't altogether shocked when Uryū led him across a cluttered basement towards what looked like a blank wall. When they reached it, Uryū pressed a hand to a patch that, to Ichigo, looked identical to everywhere else, and gave a half-smile when there was a quiet click and a section of the wall opened. 

Slightly stale air poured out to meet them as Uryū ducked inside and a low hum that was probably some kind of air conditioning started up.

"It's like the one under the hospital," Ichigo said, stepping over the threshold after his cousin. 

Uryū nodded. "Hn. It's the original. Grandfather built this as a practice run." He paused for a moment, looking around. "Father hates this place, it's been closed up for years, but it looks like it's still okay." 

The training room itself was a lot smaller than the one under Karakura General, which made sense if this was the prototype, but it had the same odd silvery walls. "So, does that mean this whole building belongs to you guys?" Ichigo asked as Uryū led him towards a door in the far wall. 

"Yes, it's been in the family for years. My great great grandfather built it originally, which is why the shielding's built in."

That explained the odd muffling feeling. Ichigo thought he might have noticed something similar in the saferoom at the hospital but honestly he'd been too distracted at the time to be sure.

"It's pretty low level for everywhere except the basement," Uryū added. "Just enough to make any reiatsu signatures seem less powerful than they really are. I think grandfather planned for the whole family to live here eventually, but then he died and my parents needed money to pay the taxes and so father had the place converted into flats. The name on the deeds is a shell company though. That way, we just look like normal tenants."

And presumably could keep getting the rents even if they had to change identities. Ryūken definitely took his precautions seriously. How ironic that he was grabbed before he could put any of them into action. "You know, you still haven't said what happened that day. Didn't you guys have any idea you were being watched?"

They'd reached the door. Uryū stopped, one hand on the knob, his head bowed a little. "Do you honestly think we'd have allowed ourselves be taken if we had," he said, bitterness dripping from every word. 

And yeah, okay, no points for tact, diplomacy or subtlety there. Well done, Ichigo. "Sorry," Ichigo said.

"Oh, don't apologise," Uryū snapped, "It's not like you knew anything about it." He wrenched the door open and stepped inside. As they had in the training room, the lights came on automatically. 

Ichigo had been expecting a small living space like the one Renji and Byakuya had shared at the hospital. Instead he found himself in a largish L shaped room that looked more like a laboratory. For a moment he flashed back to the 12th, to waking up on Kurotsuchi's table, but this place lacked the old blood and chemical reek that would have really set him off. It smelt clean, and unlike the 12th, every surface was spotless.

It was decorated in dark blues and whites. Workbenches ran almost the entire length of the long wall on the left, the rearmost of which housed several old fashioned computers and a cluster of other gadgets. The space on the right, which only took up about half the depth of the room, was filled with exercise equipment with full height cupboards on the wall behind. The rest of the L seemed to be taken up by a smaller room nestled inside this one, with a half glass door leading into it. 

Very different from Kurotsuchi's labs, but Ichigo still wondered how Uryū was able to bear it. He'd been a prisoner at the 12th for way longer than Ichigo.

"This was grandfather's workshop," Uryū said, which explained that. "It's where your father used to get his gigai serviced."

An old memory, of being wrapped in strong arms and hoisted into the air drove more recent ones from Ichigo's mind. The feeling of warmth and safety, the scent of his father's hair pomade overlaid by the ever present smell of incense, the rough prickle of his badly shaven chin against Ichigo's cheek. But none of that had been real, because dad's body hadn't been real. It had been built right here by Uryū's grandfather.

Had mom known? Stupid question. She must have. But she'd still loved Isshin, and that had to count for something, didn't it?

"Anyway, I'm pretty sure father's going to want your boyfriend in the operating room." Uryū was pointing to a half-glass door. "There's extra protections built into the walls and specialist equipment in there." He glanced at Ichigo, who was still carrying Renji, though now using enough reiatsu that his arms weren't in danger of dropping off. "Your other boyfriend, I meant, not that one."

"Fine," Ichigo huffed, adjusting his load self-consciously. "So where am I supposed to put Renji?"

Instead of answering him, Uryū went and pulled open the cupboard behind a treadmill. Inside was shelving containing what Ichigo hoped like hell were bits of gigai, and below, a stack of neatly folded futon. Uryū hauled one out. "Put him on this for now," he said, carrying it back out into the training room and settling it beside the wall. Ichigo followed and lowered Renji onto it gratefully before standing up and stretching out his back when it twinged.

A sudden burst of reiatsu outside the training room heralded Byakuya's arrival. Ryūken, pushing a wheeled stretcher with a writhing Byakuya strapped to it and with Hachigen in hot pursuit, shot past them into the laboratory. Like Uryū had suggested, they disappeared straight into the room at the back, Hachigen closing the door firmly behind them. 

As soon as it closed, glowing blue lines shot from the edges of it, snapping out to each corner of the room and bouncing back to cross over each other until the entire wall of the operating room was covered in a dense grill, which held steady for a moment before fading to silver and then vanishing completely. Ichigo felt the operating room go with it. It was similar to the way Renji had felt when they'd sealed Zabimaru. Or the way Hanatarō felt all the time. Ichigo could see the room, see shadows moving beyond the glass, but he couldn't sense it in any way that counted.

Several seconds later, red-faced and panting heavily, the medic who'd been driving the ambulance arrived. She slowed to a stop beside Ichigo and Uryū, bending over and pressing her hands to her knees. "Oh my goodness," she gasped. "What are you people? I offered to help but they said there was nothing I could do and then they _flew_ down the stairs. Flew!" She paused, squinting up at Ichigo. "Do I know you?" she asked. "You do look very familiar."

"Me?" Ichigo pointed at his nose. "I don't think so-" 

"I know!" she said, standing up and puffing out her cheeks one final time. "You're the cosplayer. The one who rescued the little girl from the train crash last year."

"Erm…" Ichigo havered, shooting a glance at Uryū. What were the chances of running into the same woman twice, and if it was her, was it significant?

"It's your fault I got this job," she continued. "After I reported seeing you, I was called in for an interview with Kojima-keishisei and Kanonji-san, and the next thing I knew I'd been signed up for this 'emergency rota'." She sniffed. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. There's extra money in it and that's always useful."

And Kojima-san and his organisation got access to people with enough spiritual pressure to be useful in a crisis. It looked like the humans in Tokyo were way more organised than anyone in Seireitei knew. Good for them.

"Uryū-chan?" Yuzu appeared around the door. She looked a bit pale, though that could just have been the lighting. "I checked up at the apartment. It's a bit of a mess, I'm afraid. The front door's been broken down and most of the furniture inside's been smashed up."

"Damned police," Uryū muttered, attracting an judgemental eyebrow rise from the ambulance driver who, now Ichigo thought about it, was maybe a little bit familiar. He remembered the kid in the train. She'd been cute.

"Anyway, I thought we could maybe organise a handyman to come and fix the door, but when I tried to call, they couldn't hear me, so I think maybe there's something wrong with the phone line too."

"There's nothing wrong with the line," Ichigo began, just as the door at the back of the lab opened again and Ryūken stalked out, pushing the now empty stretcher. Everyone turned to look at him. 

"Thank you for the help, Mirano-san," he said, when he reached them. He gave the stretcher a little shove in the medic's direction. "You may go now. We can handle things from here."

She caught it with a doubtful look, but didn't argue, which made Ichigo wonder if she was often asked to transport screaming ghosts halfway across the city. Perhaps that extra money was as much to turn a blind eye as it was to be on call.

"No trouble," she said. "Do you want me to call a handyman to come and get your door fixed too?"

"Your apartment door, jichan," Yuzu put in. "When I got upstairs, I found it broken. The hinges and the lock too."

Ryūken frowned and Ichigo could practically see him putting the facts together and coming to the same conclusion that Ichigo had the last time he'd been back in the living world: it was impossible to make a phone call without a body. After a moment Ryūken nodded and said curtly, "That would be useful, thank you. Tell them to send the bill to Goto Harin, Ikeda and Partners, Akiruno." 

That dealt with, he turned to the rest of them. "Uryū, help Mirano-san with the stretcher and anything else she might need then return and watch Abarai. I need to know the moment he wakes up. Ichigo, stay out here until your cousin returns, then join us in the operating room. Yuzu-chan, follow me." And with that, he turned and strode off back towards the operating room.

The rest of them exchanged stunned-fish looks for a second and then scrambled. They all recognised doctor's orders when they heard them.

For the few minutes Uryū was upstairs, Ichigo sat on the futon stroking Renji's hair and trying not to think about what might be happening behind that half-glass door. The things that Yuzu had said kept coming back to him. The mixing of reiatsu and how Byakuya was still attached to him and Renji. If it was like mom and dad's bond, was that why he kept coming after them? Or was it something else, something even worse.

Renji's hair had grown since the last time they'd been together. It felt like a soft brush beneath Ichigo's hand and it was starting to curl too, especially behind his-

Ichigo froze as he stared at the tattoos on Renji's neck. Had there always been one up behind his ear? And lower down, hadn't that been like a collar not a lightning strike?

Rolling Renji over, Ichigo tugged at the front of his shihakushō, trying to get it loose enough to check the others. Renji didn't even twitch, which confirmed for Ichigo that this had to be jinzen not a healing sleep. Still, it wasn't like Renji hadn't done worse to him while he was under, so it was honors even.

Finally, after getting enough ties loosened to pull open both layers down to nipple level, Ichigo sat back on his heels. These tattoos were definitely different. They used to follow the same pattern as Byakuya's ropes, a plunging collar and twin lines that lead the eye down to Renji's groin. Now the collar was gone, replaced by a kind of tribal design across both Renji's collar bones. 

Ichigo leaned forward, lifting the cloth to peer further down. Those ones looked to have changed too. They still led the eye, but there was more of them, like the stripes on a tiger's flank. It was the same on Renji's arms when he managed to get the shitagi off and, on his back, not only had the tattoos returned with a totally different design, the scars had changed too, healed to pinkish traces that looked years old. 

By the time Uryū got back, Ichigo was sitting staring at his half-nude lover wondering what the hell had happened.

"Was this entirely necessary or could you just not wait," Uryū commented dryly as he stood over them, one arm across his chest, the other tucking his hair behind his ear.

Ichigo ignored the snark and pointed to Renji's bare chest. "His tattoos have changed. How can his tattoos have changed?"

Uryū shrugged as though he couldn't care less but he still hunkered down beside them. "Maybe they weren't real tattoos?"

"You mean like not ink?" Ichigo asked. When Uryū nodded, he shook his head. "No, definitely real, and done with needles. I remember Renji telling me about it."

"Then I have no idea." Uryū huffed. "But unless it's very important, do you think we can dress him again since father did tell you to join him as soon as I got back."

"Don't fancy doing it yourself?" Ichigo shot an amused glance at his cousin as he stood up. He had no idea what Uryū's preferences were since they'd never discussed it, but it was too good an opportunity for a tease to pass up, especially after that comment Uryū made about Ichigo not being able to wait.

The judgemental look he got as they sat Renji up and began dressing him again said he was way off base for even suggesting it. Then Uryū said, "Unlike you, I have more restraint than to throw myself at the first passing hunk."

Maybe not so off-base, after all. "So you do think he's a hunk."

Uryū sighed heavily, sat back on his heels and glared at Ichigo. "Yes, Kurosaki, your boyfriend is very handsome. Congratulations. Now please, go and join father before he comes out here and scolds _me_ for something you did again."

Caught off-guard, Ichigo glanced towards the laboratory, gut twisting. Teasing Uryū had been a great distraction, but now he needed to get a grip. This was serious. Circumstances had dictated that, up until now, he'd focused on Renji. But both his lovers needed him and now it was Byakuya's turn.

"Go on," Uryū said, a uncharacteristic gentleness to his voice. "I'll keep an eye on Abarai."

Ichigo rose to his feet and, not looking back, set off. 

Sheer determination got him as far as the operating room door but couldn't make him open it. That took closed eyes and a count of three before he could twist the handle and plough into the room. 

Ryūken glanced up as he came in. He was over by the far wall with Yuzu, one hand on her shoulder like he was stopping her from moving. She looked over at Ichigo too and her eyes were so full of sadness that Ichigo's gaze immediately shot to Byakuya. He was lying on a long stainless steel table in the centre of the room, wrapped from head to toe in kidō bandage, and for a second Ichigo genuinely believed he was too late. That one of his lovers had died while he was outside mucking about with his cousin. 

Then he saw Byakuya's chest rise and fall.

Relief swept through him and his knees sagged. He might even have fallen if the door hadn't been close enough behind to catch him when he slumped. Alive. Byakuya was alive. Halfway to being a monster still, but alive. And where there was life, there was hope. 

It didn't look like the others were giving up either. Hachigen stood beside the table, eyes closed and sweating slightly, his fingers twisted into some kind of hand seal. His right arm was clockwork, Ichigo realised with surprise. The design, all tiny brass cogs, reminded him of something he'd seen before, but before he could think what, Ryūken said, "Is Abarai still sleeping?"

Ichigo nodded. "I don't think he's sleeping though. I think it's jinzen." 

"That would tie in with what Sado said about Abarai withdrawing into his inner world. He seemed to think it might have to do with Byakuya."

"When did he tell you that?" Ichigo demanded, trying to think when Chad might have had the time, and irritated that he hadn't been the one to hear it.

"I believe you were distracted by Abarai's presence at the time," Ryūken replied dryly, which, yes, Ichigo was willing to admit that he might have been a bit caught up in the moment when he first realised Renji was there and alive.

Alive. Like Byakuya.

Ichigo's gaze veered back to the table where Byakuya's reiatsu had begun pulsing in an irregular fluctuating beat that Ichigo just knew couldn't be good. "What exactly is wrong with him?" he asked and it came out hushed. Scared.

"Right now, we're not sure. Hachigen-san and I both assumed he'd been sundered. Which in case you don't know, is when a shinigami's zanpakutō is cut out of them and destroyed."

Ichigo felt sick. Watching Renji have Zabimaru sealed away had been bad enough. Having your zanpakutō destroyed… Though that would explain why Byakuya kept going after Zangetsu. He'd be desperate to find a replacement for Senbonzakura, and he had a claim… 

"If it is that, the prognosis isn't good, I'm afraid," Ryūken was saying. "According to Hachigen-san, the victim descends quickly into violent madness and dies soon afterwards. However," Ryūken paused and took a breath, "when I spoke to Yuzu, she told me something far more troubling. Yuzu-chan, tell your brother what you told me."

"He knows some of it, ji-chan. I told him in the van about his and Renji-san's reiryoku mixing and about the strings. But, nii-chan, when I got in here and looked at Byakuya-sama again, I realised he's not the same as you. He has a gap over his heart where you and Renji-san have that mix of reiryoku, and the rest of him is all holes."

Because he and Renji were draining him through the strings. 

"And that makes it sound more like soul starvation, which something entirely different."

On the table, Byakuya arched, his mouth opening and closing beneath the bandage. Was he screaming still under there?

Nausea rose like a wave, driven by guilt and fear. Ichigo swallowed it back down and dug deep for something like courage. "Tell me we can fix this," he growled, unable to tear his eyes from the table and his lover's frail form. "Whatever it is, there has to be a way to fix it."

"If there is, we don't currently know what it might be," Ryūken said. "Which is why I'm recommending that we seal him away entirely."

"Seal- What?" Ichigo jerked his head up to stare at his uncle in horror. 

"It's the only safe thing to do-"

"No!" Back in control now, Ichigo strode towards the table. "If it's me that's draining him of reiryoku, then it's up to me to make sure he gets enough back to live."

"And how do you propose to do that," Ryūken demanded, moving to intercept, eyes blazing. 

Ichigo pulled up short. It was either that or go through his uncle to get to Byakuya and Ichigo wasn't quite there yet. "I'll… I'll… I don't know, tempt him back into my inner world and force feed him some!" he half-yelled in desperation.

"He enters your inner world?" That was Hachigen this time.

Ichigo glared at him past Ryūken's shoulder. "All the damned time. Ossan, my…" Ichigo hesitated for a brief second before ploughing on because fuck it, if Hachigen couldn't deal with the Quincy thing, they were all screwed anyway. "He's the manifestation of my Quincy powers, okay, and he said that him and Byakuya had an agreement. Something to do with when I swore to him-"

"Swore?" Hachigen was frowning deeply now, his hands releasing some of their tension. On the table, Byakuya thrashed slightly until Hachigen's hands tightened again.

"As a vassal. I gave him my zanpakutō to fight with. Ossan said Byakuya kind of gave it back to him later, so we still have a call on him." But Zangetsu didn't. There was still an imbalance there. Were the strings involved in that too? But if so, why were they only going from Byakuya to him and Renji, and not the other way around any more? What had cut them?

"The oath you swore, do you remember it?"

"There weren't any words. I just sealed the sword up and handed it over." Ichigo hesitated since the next thing he wanted to say sounded weird even to his own ears. "It felt real though, if you know what I mean. Like I was giving him a piece of me."

Hachigen breathed out heavily. "Then I would suggest that's exactly what you did," he said. "It's called a thrall bond and it's been forbidden in Seireitei since the nobility ceded partial control of the Gotei to incomers from Rukongai."

A thrall bond? Didn't the baby Kuchiki's auntie use that term at the clan-heads' meeting. Or had it been Kyōraku? "Why'd they ban it?" Ichigo asked, because if mom and dad being bound together hadn't done any harm, why would this? And honestly compared to some of the shit that happened in Seireitei, swearing an oath to someone seemed like nothing. 

"It was a way of forcibly binding two souls together, allowing them to draw on each other's reiryoku. There were dangers, but it was considered worth the risk since it gave great advantage during battle. So long as the connection between thrall and master remained stable, that was. However, if anything unbalanced the pair, the weaker almost always ended up being drained of reiryoku by the stronger, even to the point of soul starvation and death." 

So, not like the bond between mom and dad at all.

Hachigen took a breath, his gaze dropping to his clasped hands. "From what I understand, in certain circles that was initially considered a useful thing, a way to control rebellious gaki-"

"I _hate_ that word," Ichigo interjected sharply. "There's no fucking difference between people outside the walls and those inside." He heard Yuzu gasp at his bad language but couldn't bring himself to care right now. Her attitude reminded him of Kyōraku's. A prissy smokescreen. What the fuck did a bit of cursing matter when there were lives at stake.

"I agree," Hachigen was saying, "But at one time there was a difference, and it is difficult for some people to accept that this has changed."

"Especially the freaking nobility," Ichigo finished for him.

"As you say," Hachigen agreed. "Which is why they found thrall bonds so useful, until certain powerful Rukongai souls turned the tables on their masters and forced them to become slaves."

An involuntary bark of laughter escaped Ichigo's mouth. "I bet they were livid the first time that happened," he crowed. "Crap, I can just imagine it, those stuck-up bastards getting a bit of their own medicine."

"Precisely, and yet that is exactly what has happened here."

Ichigo's mood sobered instantly, his gaze lowering to the table again. A thrall bond. And it was binding Byakuya to him and to Renji. Ichigo knew _he_ hadn't been the one to create it, and he couldn't see Renji doing it either, which only left Byakuya. 

Had it been something to do with Ichigo, a way of trying to control his Quincy powers? No, because Byakuya was bound to Renji too. Plus, that would mean Byakuya had done it deliberately and Ichigo couldn't believe that, because, for all of Byakuya's arrogance and pig-headedness, he believed in the law, and Hachigen said that linking souls this way had been forbidden. But how could you do something like this accidentally? That didn't make sense either. 

Not that the details really mattered. Accidental or deliberate, the results were the same. Soul starvation and an imbalance in the connections. Though that had to be recent, because Renji had been sworn to Byakuya for years and they'd both been fine, pretty much. 

Again, it came back to exactly how the connections been severed and when. Ichigo didn't remember doing anything to cut them. Could it have been subconscious? "Can't I just, I don't know, hook us back up again?" he asked.

"Perhaps. If he does enter your inner world like you say, then there has to be traces of the connection left. It may be possible to re-establish it."

 _Ossan? Are you getting any of this?_ Ichigo asked silently. It was a long shot. The last time he'd spoken to the Quincy spirit had been before Ayasegawa had tried to suck them dry.

It took a moment for the old man to reply and he sounded tired when he did. _A little, though I find myself unwilling to encourage that person back into your inner world right now. I am not my full strength, nor is Zangetsu, and if this truly is soul starvation, then he is extremely dangerous. Should you face him, the best you could hope to achieve would be a temporary eviction. If you lost, he would consume you entirely._

_So how am I supposed to do it? There has to be a way. I can't just give up._

_You could go into his inner world. After all-_

"-he's got a connection to me too! Shit! Why didn't I think of that!"

"Think of what?"

Ichigo opened his eyes to find everyone staring at him. "Ossan says I can go into Byakuya's inner world and-"

"Absolutely not, it's too dangerous." Ryūken was already shaking his head.

"No, don't you see, that's the brilliant part about it. The worst he can do if I'm in his world is chuck me out."

"Did your 'Ossan' tell you that as well?" Ryūken's expression hardened. "Has it never occurred to you, Ichigo, that that entity is part of a man who oversaw the slaughter of thousands of shinigami."

Ichigo looked at him, bewildered. "What's that got to do with anything?"

 _Because you are a shinigami too, Ichigo,_ Ossan replied, drowning out whatever Ryūken was saying. _Your uncle is suggesting that I may have an ulterior motive. Which is not an unreasonable assumption given he knows nothing about our relationship._

"… to get you killed," Ichigo caught Ryūken saying as Ossan's voice went quiet in his head. 

"He said you'd say that." Ichigo tapped his temple. "He also said he didn't blame you for thinking it."

Ryūken snorted. "A double bluff, if ever I heard one."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. "If Ossan wanted to kill me, he could've done it a thousand times. But he hasn't. He's fought for me, and even offered to die for me, so I'm sorry, but I trust him. And if he says it's safe to go after Byakuya in his inner world, then that's exactly what I'm going to do." Pushing past his uncle, Ichigo addressed the man currently holding Byakuya's life in his hands. "Hachi-san, can you stop Byakuya from breaking free while I go in after him?"

Hachigen gave him an assessing look. "I will make sure that I do," he said, which was more than Ichigo had hoped for. "However, before you go, I want to ask your sister one more thing." His gaze shifted to Yuzu. "When you look at your brother and Abarai-san, do you see their zanpakutō?"

Yuzu's eyes widened slightly and she glanced at Ichigo before looking back at Hachigen. "Yes, sir. Both of them carry their zanpakutō as part of themselves." She looked like she wanted to say more, but didn't.

"And Byakuya-dono?"

She didn't even have to look. "I think that's what a lot of the holes in his reiryoku are. It's like a piece of unravelling cloth, and it's getting worse all the time."

"But his zanpakutō is not gone."

"No, sir. There's still bits of it attached."

"I don't see-" Ryūken snapped. 

"He has not been sundered," Hachigen said right over the top of him. "Which means sealing him will not help. Re-establishing the bonds or finding some other way to rebalance the reiryoku deficit is his best chance for survival. I'm sorry, Ryūken-dono, but I support your nephew's decision to try and save his lover."

"Fine," Ryūken spat. He turned on Ichigo, "But if you get yourself killed, I'll not take the blame for it, no matter how much your father wails to Masaki."

*

The biggest surprise when he landed in his inner world was how clear the sky was. "Hey," Ichigo said, peering appreciatively out through the main doors of the Senzaikyū, "No BFF fog."

 _Thanks to your sister's initial purging, removing the rest of it was not difficult,_ Ossan replied, walking slowly down the stairs. Most of the goo-look was gone too, which was nice. Ichigo understood that it wasn't something Ossan could control, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The extra long hair and more than usually flow-y coat, he could live with.

There were no chains either, which lead to Ichigo's next question. "Where's Zangetsu?" 

_Sleeping,_ Ossan said, his head lifting enough that Ichigo understood he meant the hollow was upstairs still, presumably in the cell. _I've locked the door. It will make him furious if he wakes before we return, but it should keep him safe for a short time if we are somehow outflanked._

If Byakuya managed to make it past them while they were hunting him. That made sense. "Good call," Ichigo said. "I have an idea, by the way, where the way through into Byakuya's inner world might be." He'd based it on his experiences accessing Hisagi's. That had been in Ichigo's version of Urahara's secret training grounds, the place both Hisagi and Ichigo had been reborn as half-hollows, so it stood to reason that the way through to Byakuya's inner world would be somewhere similar. "I reckon it's going to be the arena where I gave him Zangetsu and where he gave the sword back to you."

Ossan nodded. _That seems logical._

The other option was the captain's quarters where Ichigo had finally accepted his place as a shinigami and Byakuya's lover, but that sounded too corny to be true.

It didn't take them long to reach the arena. Ichigo's version of Seireitei didn't have quite the same layout as the real one. Major landmarks, like the divisional headquarters, Sōkyoku Hill and the pits, were all squashed together, while most of the civilian housing, normally crammed tightly between them, was missing. 

Like a three-dimensional schematic, Ichigo thought, recalling maps of the Tokyo subway system as they hopped from roof to roof. Would the layout change as other places in Seireitei became important to him?

He didn't have a chance to think about it too deeply. Landing on the sands of the arena proper, Ichigo turned slowly on the spot, looking for anything that might indicate a 'rift in the time/space continuum'. 

_I don't think they're quite the same thing,_ Ossan said.

Ichigo shot him a dark look. "How would describe it then?"

 _An overlap of awareness, perhaps?_

Ichigo shook his head. "Nope, don't like it. We're sticking with my idea."

 _As you will,_ Ossan replied, and Ichigo just knew he was mocking him. Not that Ichigo cared. Considering they were about to embark on something that could turn out to be suicidally dangerous, he was actually feeling pretty damn good. Maybe because for once he was doing something, instead of sitting on his ass trying to work out what the hell was going on and letting everyone else run the risks for him. At heart, he was an action kind of a guy, Ichigo decided.

"Any luck?" he called several minutes later. They'd split the arena complex in two and each taken one half to search, on the grounds that Byakuya had a link to both of them so, unlike with Hisagi's inner world, Ossan should be able to sense it too.

 _No,_ came the reply in his head. The Quincy spirit was actually several hundred metres away but apparently distance was no object when thoughts were your medium of communication.

Ichigo growled quietly. This was stupid. Either the overlap wasn't here, or it was too small to be found easily and either way they were wasting time. "We're gonna try my other idea," he said, turning in a full circle to get his bearings. If the lists were in that direction then the 6th was in… _that_ general direction.

He set off without waiting for Ossan, feeling the spirit catch up with him a moment later. They travelled in silence for a while before Ossan said, _You never really believed the point of access would be at the arena._

Ichigo's lip curled without permission, but there was no point in denying it, because it was true. The arena might have been where the oaths were exchanged, but it wasn't where both he and Byakuya became who they were today. Byakuya, Ichigo knew, had moved from the Kuchiki manor house into the captain's quarters straight after the massacre. There, he'd had to come to terms with losing most of his family and his teacher. He'd learnt how to manage the 6th and achieved bankai. It was where he'd grown from a child into a man. 

And it was at the bottom of Byakuya's bed that Ichigo had finally come to terms with being dead. Or mostly come to terms with it. He'd needed to have the point hammered home by Zangetsu at a later date, but the argument was still valid. The captain's quarters were, simultaneously, a place of change and stability, and Ichigo couldn't think of a better spot for a rift.

He felt it before he saw it. Not some blazing power source but a trickle, like an itch at the corner of his mind as he hopped the wall into the estate grounds. For some weird reason, it'd got dark as they travelled and now, with the temperature balmy and the skies a deep midnight blue, it felt like a night in late summer. The far reaches of the Kuchiki estate greeted them. Cicadas grating out the last of their songs from trees that had been artfully arranged to give the illusion of a formal garden run wild. Iris stood tall and elegant, while moon flowers clambered along broken down walls and over crumbling walkways. Despite not being real, the place still smelt like a florists. 

Ichigo led the way towards the captain's quarters, guided in by the giant pine that stood higher than the roof and was starkly visible against the stars.

"It's here. Definitely," he said, slowing to a stop a few paces from the front steps. 

Ossan came to stand beside him. _I also can sense it,_ he said, obviously waiting for Ichigo to make the first move. 

But that was easier said than done. According to Byakuya, even speaking about a shinigami's inner world was taboo, and here was Ichigo about to barge into that inner world without so much as an invitation. Did he really have the right to do that?

 _He has invaded yours many times,_ Ossan pointed out.

"Which doesn't make it right for me to do it too," Ichigo replied, shooting a look the Quincy's way. "Come on, you know the saying about two wrongs not making a right."

Ossan dipped his chin, but didn't answer. He was leaving it up to Ichigo then.

It was really a matter of deciding which was the lesser of the two wrongs. Invading Byakuya's soul, or failing to fix what Ichigo had, however unknowingly, broken. And honestly, put like that, there was only one choice to make. You didn't let someone die just because it might besmirch their honour. That was just plain stupid.

"Okay," Ichigo said, "Let's do this." 

Not letting himself stop to think, he dashed up the front steps of the captain's quarters, yanked open the door and found himself, of all the unexpected places, inside a tent. Plain and practical, it was made of strips of heavy cloth in alternating colours, stitched together and hung over a wooden poled frame. In other words, exactly the kind of thing the 6th took with them if they were going to be out in the field for more than a couple of nights.

Ichigo's first reaction was surprise. Byakuya's inner world was a tent? Shouldn't it be an orchard or some kind of garden.

Then again, Ichigo had never really fallen for the whole sakura thing. Whereas Renji always claimed to smell cherries when Byakuya released Senbonzakura, Ichigo had only ever smelt blood. Those were not petals, they were blades, and if you got too close they would slice you to ribbons. The only way to deal with Byakuya, was to see him as he was; dangerous, strong, pig-headed at times, and arrogant to a fault, but with a core of nobility, in the best sense of the word, than ran so deeply through him that he would stand between three helpless children and everything Seireitei wanted to do to them, despite believing their father had been responsible for the slaughter of his whole family. 

Put like that, a military billet in Byakuya's inner world made complete sense.

Feeling somewhat more at ease, Ichigo stepped forward and pulled aside the curtain door because, unless Byakuya had managed to reduce his inner world down to a single tent purely through the power of control freakery, there should be something more outside.

There was, and not surprisingly, it was a battlefield. Stretching as far as the eye could see, and overhung by a bruise purple sky, it was the most depressing place Ichigo had ever seen.

"Damn, he really needs to lighten up," Ichigo breathed, gazing around at piles of skeletons and limply hanging war banners. 

_It would seem your man has a somewhat grim mind-set,_ Ossan said as he emerged from the tent too. 

Ichigo looked over at him, a greeting on his lips, though what actually came out was, "How come you never call Byakuya and Renji by their names?" 

Ossan paused, apparently surprised by Ichigo's question. _Because their names belong to them,_ he said after a moment, as though the answer should be obvious. _And it would be rude to use something without the owner's permission._

"Right." It seemed like nit-picking to Ichigo, but what did he know. Turning back to the incredibly depressing, 'man, he was going to excavate that stick from Byakuya's ass even if it killed him', landscape, Ichigo said, "So, we're here. Any ideas where to begin?"

They started off adopting the same technique they'd used at the arena; splitting up and searching one half of the area each. Which would have been great if the battlefield hadn't stretched on for absolutely ever. After the first time he lost sight of the tent and only found it again through sheer luck, Ichigo suggested they stick together. "I don't care how instantaneously we can talk to each other," he argued, "If I've no idea what direction you're in, I can't come and help if you find him." Plus being alone out there was beyond creepy. Ichigo had no idea how Byakuya could stand it.

After that, they tried the line of sight method, which meant walking far enough that the tent was only a dot on the horizon and then one of them continuing on until they could only just see the other. Ichigo took the final leg, on the grounds that Ossan was taller and so Ichigo could see him for longer. But even that didn't work, and now a good couple of hours had passed and there was still no trace of Byakuya.

Regrouping back at the tent, Ichigo flopped onto the mat and glared up at the stripy canvas. "Is it possible that he's just not here?" he asked. "I mean, I was expecting to get in here and there he'd be, all monster mad and slavering over us, but no. There's nothing. Not even a trace of him."

Ossan, who was standing motionless by the tent flap said, _If not here, then where?_

Ichigo had an idea, but it seemed… off the wall. "Renji's place," he said. "I mean, if Byakuya could come into my inner world then why not into Renji's?" Okay, maybe not so far-fetched. Sometimes you just needed to articulate an idea to realise it made sense.

 _But we have no connection to that one,_ Ossan pointed out, which, yes, was true, but neither was it helpful. What Ichigo really needed was a way of being sure that Byakuya wasn't here. Some way of tracking him like-

_You could attempt to locate his spirit ribbon._

Ichigo closed his eyes and counted slowly to ten. "And you couldn't have suggested that before?"

 _My apologies. It only occurred to me when it occurred to you._

Oh, now that was interesting. In the past Ossan had always known things that Ichigo hadn't. Quincy things, techniques. But that sounded like he was the same as Zangetsu, and only knew things that Ichigo did, albeit half the time on a subconscious level.

 _I do have my own sword now,_ Ossan said slowly after a moment or two of silence. _Perhaps that has made me more like a zanpakutō._

"But you still know the Quincy stuff, right?" Ichigo demanded, because until he managed to pin his uncle down for some proper training, Ossan was his only available go-to guy for all of that stuff. 

_Yes, Ichigo, I retain an extensive knowledge of Quincy techniques. However you should, as you say, seek out your uncle. He is very skilled, as is your cousin._

It was good to know that Ossan wouldn't see him going to Ryūken as a betrayal. A half-smile curling his lips, Ichigo refocused his sight, narrowing it down until the air around him was full of red ribbons. This was going to be even harder than last time. Talk about searching for a needle in a haystack.

Some time later, and head buzzing, Ichigo gave it up as a bad job. It was one thing looking for someone you knew was there, and something else entirely trying to prove a negative. Maybe that was why Ossan hadn't suggested it until Ichigo was on the cusp of mentioning it himself. The spirit knew it was a shitty idea. "If he's here," he said, sitting up and rubbing his temples, "Then he's doing a good job of pretending not to be."

 _Which leaves us with trying to find a way into the other one's world,_ Ossan said.

Ichigo blinked at him a bit blearily, his eyes still fizzy from too many identical spirit ribbons. If Ossan had moved at all while Ichigo was busy, he'd returned to the exact same spot he'd been in before; upright as a tree, beside the door. "I guess," he said, after gathering his thoughts. "I don't suppose you saw anything that might have looked like a cross-over point?"

"No, and without a connection, it's unlikely either of us would see it anyway."

But Ichigo did have a connection. Not a formal one like the string maybe, but Yuzu had said that Ichigo had Renji's reiryoku inside him, and that Renji had some of his. That implied a connection. 

Maybe he was just going about finding it the wrong way. If the string was a road, an access point, between two places, then maybe what he had with Renji was more like a telephone line. Or a mobile signal. Kind of hanging around in the ether but only connected you up when you dialled the number. So how should he go about dialling Renji's number?

Or maybe all he needed to do was call him. 

Feeling ten kinds of stupid, Ichigo sat up, tipped his head back and yelled at the top of his voice, "Renji, you dumb fuck! If you're listening, pick up the phone!" 

A couple of minutes of fading hope galloped past. There was no answer. Of course there wasn't. He didn't know why he'd ever thought there would be. Feeling ultra self-conscious, Ichigo pushed to his feet. "That's it," he said, "I'm officially out of ideas. Let's go home."

Returning to his own inner world was almost as depressing as entering Byakuya's. Ichigo closed the door on the captain's quarters with a churning in his gut and a heavy heart. With no way of reconnecting the strings between them, Byakuya was going to die. And it'd be Ichigo's fault. Not only because of the soul starvation, but because he'd not been able to fulfil his promise and find a way to fix it.

"Damn it," he snarled, thumping his fist against a supporting pillar. "I should've been able to do something!" He slumped forward, forehead thumping into the wood almost as hard as his hand. He was a failure. Useless. What was the point of him if he couldn't protect- 

_Ichigo?_

There was something in the tone of Ossan's voice that halted Ichigo's downward spiralling thoughts. Warily he levelled a look under his arm at the Quincy spirit. "What?"

_I have a… message for you._

"A message?"

_From the one you tried to call._

"Renji?" But why now? Why not before?

Because that had been Byakuya's inner world, duh. Why would Renji try and contact him there. Ichigo sagged against the pillar, hardly able to believe his own stupidity. "What does it say?"

 _It is not words so much as… Let me show you._

A feeling crept over Ichigo slowly. Determination, satisfaction. Joy, tinged with sadness. Hope. And through them all, a great big giant bear hug of a welcome.

"That's it?" he asked as it faded.

 _It is,_ Ossan replied. _Would you like to see it again?_

See wasn't exactly the term he'd have used, but Ichigo nodded anyway. Again the emotions came, this time more intensely it seemed, and clearer. They sang in Ichigo's heart, bringing a smile to his lips. If that wasn't an invitation, then Ichigo didn't know what was.

"If we can find it, we can get in," he said, pushing off the pillar, full of energy again. Now where would his and Renji's places be? The 12th? It was where they'd proved they had each other's backs, but it seemed a bit gruesome. Ichigo couldn't imagine either of them wanting a connection routed through there. The same thing applied to Sōkyoku Hill. 

The only other place, aside from the captain's quarters, was the divisional buildings. That was where he and Renji had spent most of their time, though Ichigo couldn't think of a specific pivotal moment that might create an overlap like he had with Byakuya.

Still it was as good a place to start as any.

With only the single wall between the Kuchiki estate and the 6th, they were there in no time. It still managed to be light when they arrived though. More than light. It was a dusty midday as they crossed the exercise yard towards the main building, reminiscent of many he and Renji had spent during the early part of Ichigo's life as a shinigami.

And maybe that was it. The connection, the overlap. Not a specific moment in time but a feeling. Of being with a friend and someone you loved. Of working hard and finding a purpose. Of being all you could be because that was the best way, the only way you had, of making a difference.

A mountain vista opened before Ichigo like the best kind of travel brochure. Only this one came with fresh pine-scented air and a eagle calling overhead. White tipped peaks filled the horizon, reaching up into an azure sky over a green meadow that swept down into a peaceful valley. But it was the jumble of rocks upslope that caught Ichigo's attention. They seemed to have steam rising from them and if that was an onsen then Ichigo was moving in permanently. 

Sure enough, it was. Set in a secluded nook and surrounded by black volcanic rock, there was even a tanuki statue rising out of the steam, complete with travel hat, staff and great big balls. "Now _that's_ what I call an inner world," Ichigo said, striding towards it.

"Glad ya like it," came a voice from behind him.

"Renji!" Ichigo turned and threw himself at his lover, every part of him singing with relief. Alive, and fine. Renji was fine.

Welcoming arms closed around him with all the strength and love he remembered, lips pressing eagerly to his ear and hair. "Ichigo. Ichigo." 

The desperation in that affectionate growl loosened some emotion deep inside Ichigo and his eyes burned. He didn't care. After all the shit they'd been through, were still going through, he deserved this. They both did. He buried his face in Renji's shoulder and for a long moment let himself cling, basking in his lover's warmth and inhaling his scent, until the overwhelming stench of wet dog, sweat and something that'd been dead for way too long to be polite got too much even for him. 

"What the hell is that stink?" he demanded finally, shoving Renji to arm's length and trying really hard not to breathe through his nose.

Renji grinned sheepishly at him. "It's Zabimaru." He plucked at a cowl of white fur covering his shoulders. "I'm just hoping the smell goes away when I drop out of this new bankai."

New bankai? Ichigo took another step back and ran approving eyes over a new gauntlet blade and hefty pauldrons. So that was what had been poking him in the cheek while they hugged. The tattoos on Renji's neck had changed too, like they had on his real body. Ichigo smiled. It looked like someone had won himself a major upgrade. "It's looks great," he said before punching Renji in the arm and laughing, "But you'd better be right about the smell or you're sleeping on your own from now on." 

"You little shit," Renji mock growled, grabbing for him. Ichigo twisted out of his grip and was about to get stuck into one of their usual wrestling matches when he saw Byakuya. 

He stopped fighting immediately, hands falling to his sides. Renji sobered too, coming to stand beside him and squeezing his shoulder. "It was the only way I could think to hold him without killing him," he said gently. "Zabimaru helped. They showed me how to change the rock to make it work."

Byakuya hung from the left wall of the onsen's nook, the rock moulded around his body like shiny black plastic, trapping his limbs and chest and covering his mouth. Only his bulging belly and glazed unseeing eyes were truly visible, along with skeletal hands clawing fruitlessly at the air. Ichigo's heart twisted. There was nothing really left in that monster's body of the Byakuya he remembered. Or at least he hoped there wasn't, because Byakuya would loathe being like this. The guy had such hugely high standards, and though he might use them to beat on everyone else, he held himself to them even harder. If they couldn't find a way to fix him, it would only be fair to… 

Ichigo's brain stuttered to a halt. He couldn't go there. Not yet. Not while there was still hope.

A movement over the far side of the pool caught his eye. A super-sized white baboon with familiar dark stripes on its shoulders perched on the rocks along the edge of the pool, partially obscured by thick clouds of steam. Damp and spiky-furred, it stared back at Ichigo with baleful yellow eyes and, as their gazes met, its lips drew back to expose dagger-long fangs. Something moved above its head. A trick of the light, Ichigo thought for a second until, no, that was actually a snake. A huge white one, upright like a pole, its flickering tongue the only moving part. A baboon with a snake's tail. Zabimaru, Ichigo assumed.

Before Ichigo could do the polite thing and go over and introduce himself, the spirit got up and stalked off, clambering up and into the rocks, the snake-tail glaring back at him until the spirit vanished behind some boulders.

"I think they're a bit pissed with how long it took you to find us," Renji said. "But now you're here, you can tell me how to fix him."

"I've got no idea," Ichigo replied, before thinking it through. 

At his words, Renji's expression hardened and his sword lifted. "Right, then I guess there's no reason to hold off any longer." He took a step towards Byakuya. "I'll give you a few minutes to get ready in the real world before I cut his head off."

"What!" Ichigo yelped. "You're not killing him!"

"You said you didn't know how to fix him," Renji said, through gritted teeth. "And Zabimaru reckons he'll hollowfy immediately, so you need to be ready to take him out when-"

"I don't care. We're not killing Byakuya," Ichigo reasserted, pressing his hand to Renji's wrist so he lowered his sword. 

Renji wrenched his hand away and grabbed Ichigo's arm, spinning him to face Byakuya again. "Ya think he'd want to live like that!" he demanded. "You're fucking insane if you do."

Skeletal hands clawed at the air, a sharp-toothed maw worked mindlessly on stone, and there was nothing aware in those flat black eyes. "No, I-" Ichigo began, but Renji wasn't done.

"We had a promise," he spat. "Him and me, going back years. If anything happened; Urahara, the 12th, even jail; if anything like that happened, we'd make sure it didn't last. We'd do the _right_ thing by each other, and even if he broke his promise to me, I ain't gonna-"

"He did keep his promise," Ichigo said, loud enough to get Renji to stop ranting and hear him.

"What?" Renji said, still obviously furious but frowning now.

"He took out a contract to have you killed if his attempt to rescue you from Shugo didn't work."

That seemed to take the wind right out of Renji's sails. His shoulders dropped and so did his gaze. "He told you that?" he asked, his voice weirdly vulnerable. Believing Byakuya had let him down must have really hurt. 

Ichigo shook his head and tried to be gentle. "No. The Iba returned the fee when they couldn't find you. Minus commission."

That made Renji's shoulders tighten. "Fucking leeches," he muttered, before raising his head. "Was it a good contract?"

"It was an expensive one," Ichigo replied, not sure it was the same thing. "And the cost came out of Byakuya's private funds, not the clan's, which is how come they returned it to me."

"And it was definitely to have me killed?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Yes, Renji, it was there in black and white. The love of your life took out a contract to have you killed so you wouldn't suffer for three thousand years locked in Shugo with Zabimaru sealed away inside you." By the time he finished speaking, it didn't feel as much like an eye-rolling statement. In fact, it made Ichigo feel that maybe Byakuya hadn't been that far off the mark. 

Then again, if Renji had been killed, he wouldn't be here now. Which kind of brought him back to the case right in front of them. "But that doesn't mean you've got to kill him now."

Renji shook his head. "Unless you got a fix for him it does."

What was it with shinigami and killing themselves and other people. "It's not a fix, but we think we know what's wrong with him." Briefly Ichigo outlined what Hachigen had said about thrall bonds and soul starvation, finishing with, "So I was thinking, if Byakuya didn't do it on purpose, maybe it's some kind of innate ability that he doesn't know about."

The sceptical look Renji gave him spoke volumes. 

"It could be!" Ichigo protested. "I can't be the only person with things inside them they don't understand. I mean, look at you! You had the wrong bankai and didn't know it!" 

Renji's expression tightened. "That was Byakuya's fault too."

"What?"

"According to Zabimaru, we stopped evolving after we swore to him."

Neither Ossan nor Zangetsu had said anything about their power being curtailed, though this didn't seem like the time to mention it.

Ichigo stared over at Byakuya trying to fathom his way through the mess. "If it isn't an innate ability, then working the kidō was either a huge coincidence or deliberate, and I don't buy deliberate. Byakuya wouldn't do that to us."

"Not if it broke the law, he wouldn't," Renji replied stiffly. 

Ouch. Since when had he got so cynical. 

Probably about the same time he discovered the oath of fealty he's sworn had crippled him. That'd definitely do it. Ichigo took a deep breath and ploughed on. "So, it has to be innate. Like, maybe he inherited it from his dad or something." 

"Kuchiki Sōjun. He was about as straight up as they come," Renji said dismissively. 

Determined not to be put off, Ichigo shot back, "Okay, so what about his mom, Sachiyo." He remembered her because her name reminded him of Senbonzakura's, only she had ten times more blossoms. 

"She didn't even have shikai, remember." Renji growled lightly under his breath, shooting a quick glance over at Byakuya. "How far back you planning to go for him anyhow? Grandparents? Great grandparents? There's Towa in there and Kasumiōji, even an Ibuya or two." He barked out a mirthless laugh then looked away, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Crap, who'd have thought this stupid shit'd end up being relevant."

"I could give you a blow job, if you like. Help you concentrate," Ichigo teased, hoping to lighten the mood at least a bit, maybe remind Renji of happier times. And they had been happy. Or at least Ichigo tended to think of them that way, until he remembered what everyone else had been going through while he'd been playing sex games with Byakuya and Renji.

His heart sank and his attempt at humour seemed to fall way short on Renji too, because for a second Renji's expression twisted into something terrible before collapsing into a scowl. 

"You ain't getting it," he snarled. "No way he inherited it from any of that lot, 'cause if any of 'em could bind souls like that, they'd have been crowing about from the fucking rooftops! And the other nobles would've loved them for it. Finally, a way to keep uppity gaki in line. Bind 'em up tight and suck 'em dry if they dare set a foot out of line!" As the volume of Renji's voice rose, every sentence came with a jabbing finger or a furious clenched fist. "Fuck, the Kuchiki'd _love_ something like that. Absolute fucking obedience!" 

Renji dashed his hand away like he was dismissing all of it. "No. It ain't innate. It's a kidō. But I reckon you're right about it not being deliberate. It'll be something he copied blind off his uncle. Stupid bastard probably didn't even know what he was doing when he bound us together."

They say the simplest explanation is usually the right one. 

From everything Ichigo had heard about Kuchiki Kōga, twenty eighth head of clan Kuchiki and captain of the 6th division for two hundred and thirty five years, he was exactly the type to go digging for forbidden techniques. And then use them on people. 

Ichigo's happy inheritance bubble burst. "Shit."

Renji huffed a disgusted breath, visibly deflating. "And all this time I thought it was Zabimaru he was after."

"Yeah, well, he might've be after a zanpakutō too," Ichigo replied, his mind still caught up in the idea of Kōga. There was something about him…

"What?" Renji spun, expression murderous.

Ichigo backed off a step, both hands up, and quickly outlined what Yuzu had seen. "It's not the main problem," he explained, watching Renji closely. "But Senbonzakura is definitely missing. Which is odd considering everyone believes Byakuya used it to slaughter Central 46."

"I have no idea what the stupid bastard thought he was doing that night," Renji said, shaking his head. The worst of his temper seemed to have subsided. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No. He screwed me senseless, then drugged me and sneaked out. The next thing I knew, he'd vanished, Central were dead, and the Gotei was about to start an all-out war on itself." 

Renji grimaced. 

Ichigo shrugged and continued, "It could've been worse. I ended up invoking the Soul King's authority to hold everything together and the clan-heads took over the running of Seireitei." 

"And now?"

"I've got no idea. The last I heard, Kyōraku was retiring, the onmitsukidō had wiped out the 7th in retaliation for killing the Towa, who are down to less than half a dozen members by the way, and Hirako Shinji's about to start a revolution." He hadn't meant to say that last bit, but it kind of slipped out anyway. 

"Crap. What a mess." Renji hunkered down, ducking his head so he could scrub a hand through his hair and tug on the longer bits at the back. 

Ichigo slumped to the ground beside him, legs crossed, elbow on knee, chin in hand. The rock wasn't comfortable exactly but it was warm. Thoughtfully, his gaze returned to Byakuya, who was still clawing at the air. "I still reckon Aizen's behind it all," he said glumly after a moment or two.

Renji shot a startled look at him. "From the 1st? What's he got to do with it?"

Ichigo's chin fell off his hand as he boggled at Renji. "Didn't Byakuya tell you? He's got his shikai back, that perfect hypnosis thing, and he's been using it on everyone."

"Fucking hell!" Renji groaned and dropped backwards onto the ground, arms above his head. "So _that's_ what's been going on." He paused, then growled, "The stupid bastard. Why didn't he say something?"

"He probably thought he was protecting you."

"Doubt it. He's never done that before." 

Ichigo glared at Renji. "That's what Karin reckons. 'Just ask him,' she says, 'he'll tell you the truth', but whenever I try it, the fucker just clams up."

"That's because you don't listen," Renji replied, smirking. "You just storm off in a huff, and he hates that, so he doesn't see the point in trying to talk to you."

There might be the tiniest smidgen of truth in that. Ichigo moved on. "So why hasn't he said anything then. I mean, did he tell you what happened with Senbonzakura?"

"Not much. Only that he was gone," Renji tapped his fist against his chest, "in here."

Ichigo frowned, thinking back to what they'd been talking about before. "Zanpakutō gone from its inner world but Byakuya's not sundered. Central definitely getting massacred by Senbonzakura, but Byakuya didn't do it." He counted the details off on his fingers as he spoke. "You know, if Kōga wasn't dead, all this stuff could be his doing. It fits his shikai to a tee."

He and Renji exchanged worried looks, then Renji shook his head. "No. No way. That guy would never have let Byakuya have the 6th if he was still alive."

"True." Ichigo crossed that worrying possibility off his list, though the nagging feeling that there might be something in it remained. He contemplated Byakuya, watching clawing hands that seemed to massage the air, wondering if he knew the answers. Probably. Or would if he was ever himself again.

Which he would be. Had to be.

Ichigo's gut twisted in desperate hope and, steeling his resolve, he said, "We've got to fix him. I've got too many questions to let him die now."

Renji snorted a laugh and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, but didn't argue. Nor did he interrupt when Ichigo filled him in on the last bit of the puzzle, Yuzu's stuff about strings and their shared reiryoku. "The weird thing is how the strings from us back to Byakuya are broken," Ichigo said as he came to the end. "If we could get to the bottom of that-"

"No need," Renji put in, right over the top of him. "I reckon I know exactly when it happened." Ichigo perked up, desperate for any kind of insight as Renji continued, "Back when we were in Matsuyama, there was a female arrancar, the one that nearly crashed the plane? Anyway, she caught up with us in Karakura, trashed Arisawa-sensei's apartment, almost killed Rukia-"

"I remember Chad mentioning it," Ichigo said. "Didn't Tatsuki drive her off?" Which sounded a bit far fetched to Ichigo. Then again Tatsuki had always been able to beat his ass at the dojo, so maybe she had.

"No, Rukia did. Or at least fought the thing to a stand still. But before all of that, the arrancar caught up with us in the woods and did something to Byakuya, trapped him under this glowing shield thing. My spiritual energy was all sealed up at the time so I couldn't tell what was going on but Arisawa-sensei said she drained all his reiryoku."

"That sounds like a possibility," Ichigo said, though in all honesty, if that was all it took, Renji's connection to Byakuya should have been cut when he was sealed.

"No, listen, that's not all." Renji frowned and sat up, knees high, elbows resting on them. "Thing was, while she had him trapped, she kept telling him that he tasted of you. She all but accused him of eating you, and I was thinking, what if she somehow stripped all of our reiryoku out of Byakuya. I mean, if one end of the string had nothing left to anchor itself to…"

"It'd be like unhooking one end of a rope bridge," Ichigo breathed.

"Exactly. The whole thing'd crash into the canyon and eventually there wouldn't be anything left except the anchor point at the other end."

"You and me."

"You and me," Renji nodded.

Ichigo huffed a huge breath and gazed at Byakuya. "Okay, say that's how it happened, how do we fix it?"

Renji shrugged. "Either find a way of getting Byakuya's reiryoku out of us, or ours back into him."

"Does it bother you which?" Ichigo asked, curious. After his initial outburst, Renji had been remarkably calm about all this. Strange, considering the last time they'd had a conversation about Byakuya, he'd been frantic with worry.

"I just want it all sorted," Renji replied, and there was a gruff note to his voice that just reinforced Ichigo's feeling that something had changed.

But if Renji wasn't ready to talk about it, Ichigo wasn't going to press. "Okay," he said. "Since we don't have a handy arrancar around, I suggest we try to re-connect with him."

Renji nodded, seemingly happy enough with the decision. "Any idea how?"

Ichigo glared at him. "How come I have to answer all the difficult questions," he protested. 

"Hey, I answered the one about the string, so it's your turn to use the brain," Renji shot back, rolling to his feet. He stretched and as he did so, the cowl over his shoulders faded along with the gauntlet, and an immense reiatsu that Ichigo hadn't noticed surrounding him, vanished. Ichigo's ears popped and he wriggled his jaw. "Wow, that's gone up."

The grin Renji shot him could only be described as shit-eating. "Bigger than yours." 

Ichigo shook his head sadly. "You wish, loser," he said, and dodged when Renji made a grab for him. 

Before they could get into another tussle, an high-pitched wailing started up from over by the onsen. They both spun to look. It was Byakuya, writhing in his restraints, eyes clear, that hungry stare now directed across the water to where they stood.

Renji shuddered and looked away, but Ichigo couldn't help watching. He'd been almost peaceful before, so why'd he woken up now? And there was something about his movements, the ones before and the ones he was making now. The stretched out fingers and the way his bulging belly wriggled like he was trying to stamp his feet.

"How'd you trap him anyway," Ichigo asked after a moment or two.

Renji was busy taking off his sandals and tabi. He paused and frowned. "It wasn't hard. I mean, he obviously came at me with everything he had, there was loads of kidō and these skeleton things that kept firing byakurai and then falling apart, but without Senbonzakura it was never gonna be an equal fight. He went down pretty easy in the end. Kind of keeled over, so I dragged him back here and Zabimaru and me stuck him in the rock."

"And all that time you were in bankai."

Renji nodded. 

Byakuya wailed again. The sound grated on Ichigo's nerves like a hungry baby crying and… fuck. That was where he'd seen it before. "Renji? Can you go bankai again?" he said, gaze fastened on Byakuya.

"What? I only just dropped out of it, ya demanding bastard," Renji protested looking back over his shoulder. 

"Just for a minute." Ichigo shot a pleading look at him. Renji was obviously planning on taking a dip. He was down to his hakama and though he kept his body angled away, Ichigo could see that the scars on his back were just as faded as the ones on his real body, the tattoos just as changed. 

Grumbling under his breath and reiatsu already rising, Renji scooped his sword back up. "Sōō, Zabimaru!" 

This blast wasn't quite so big as the one that'd knocked everyone to their knees back in the workshop, but it wasn't far off. Ichigo swayed under the onslaught and waited for the pressure to settle out around him.

Byakuya had already gone silent, and when he looked over, Ichigo knew his theory was right. "Have you ever seen a baby animal feeding?" he asked Renji.

"Like a puppy or something?" Renji said coming to stand beside him. "I guess, why?"

"Look at his hands." They were doing that kneading motion again, like a cat that was being fussed or a baby being fed. Ichigo watched for a moment before shuddering and looking away. "Damn that's creepy." 

"He's eating it," Renji said, sounding horrified. "He's eating my reiatsu!"

"We wanted to find a way of getting it back into him," Ichigo said. "Looks like we found it."

"Like that!" Renji pointed, eyes wide. 

"You got any better ideas?"

"But we'd be feeding him. Like we're his parents or something. And he's _Byakuya_!"

Renji sounded so scandalised that Ichigo couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "You feed the guy your dick and you're bothered by this?"

"That's different." Renji's expression turned slightly hopeful. "Can't we do it that way instead?" he suggested.

Ichigo turned to look pointedly at clawed hands, bulging belly and shark-toothed maw just visible around the rock gag, and raised his eyebrows. He didn't need to actually say anything. 

Beside him, Renji deflated with a huff, his bankai fading with it. "Fine. I wouldn't want my bits anywhere near him at the moment anyway."

Nor would Ichigo, which brought them right back to feeding Byakuya their bankai. Though, put like that, it sounded more than a bit dodgy. Bankai were powerful. Maybe they should run the idea past someone first. 

Closing his ears to the hungry wailing that had started up again, Ichigo said, "We should probably check it's doing what we think it is before we risk making things worse."

"Good plan," Renji replied, already tugging on his hakama ties. "How you gonna do that?"

Ichigo shrugged. "Ask Yuzu? She'll be able to tell if he's got your reiryoku inside him. Plus, I can let everyone know what we're doing in case it goes wrong. That way they'll know what they're dealing with."

"Okay. Guess you'd better get going them," Renji said, dropping his hakama. "And just when I was about to invite you to take a soak with me too. Amongst other things." He did an obnoxious hip wriggle that made his long cock bounce in its nest of dark red curls. 

Damned if he was going to let that pass unpunished, Ichigo dropped his shoulder and charged Renji, who honest-to-gods shrieked as they made contact and was laughing his head off by the time Ichigo dumped him bodily in the steaming pool. Ichigo danced backwards, just managing to get clear before he ended up wet as well and a moment later, Renji surfaced from the depths squirting water like a clam. 

"Bastard," he said, but his grin spread from ear to ear. 

"Loser," Ichigo replied, automatically. "I'd better go. Enjoy your bath." He closed his eyes, and then opened them again, a sudden thought thought occurring to him. "How will I get back?"

Renji squinted up at him. "The same way you did last time, idiot."

"Right." Ichigo closed his eyes again, Renji's inner world already fading.

Renji's yell followed him out. "Hey. Don't forget your zanpakutō next time!"

*

All he could smell was pork ramen. Taking a deep breath and stretching until his back popped, Ichigo opened his eyes and looked around. They'd moved him, no surprise there. Before he left, he'd set down right next to the table in the operating room, hoping that being close in the real world would help him find Byakuya quicker in his inner one. Fat lot of good that had done. Now he was in the outer part of the lab, on a futon which had been squeezed in amongst the exercise equipment.

"Nii-chan, you're awake!"

Ichigo looked round. Yuzu was perched at the long work-bench, and the steaming bowl in front of her had to be the source of that wonderful smell. Ichigo's stomach rumbled. 

Yuzu giggled and held out her bowl. "But that's yours," Ichigo protested.

"I've not started yet and there's more upstairs," Yuzu replied, sliding off the tall stool she'd been sitting on. "Unagiya-san dropped it off for us on the way back to their home. Apparently Arisawa-ojiisan has worked out a way of making normal food edible for spirits, or he's found someone who can supply us with food, Unagiya-san wasn't clear about it, but she said it should be fine for us to eat, and it tastes wonderful. Try some."

Ichigo was tempted. Now the bowl was closer, it smelt even better. But did he really have time? Maybe if he talked while he ate. Taking the bowl and chopsticks, he said, "How's Hachigen doing?"

Yuzu's gaze cut away. "He's sleeping. Isane-san came and relieved him about three hours ago." She glanced quickly towards the operating room. "She's in there now. Sado-san's with her."

Ichigo didn't think he knew any Isane, but if Chad was with her and Hachigen trusted her to keep Byakuya subdued, then who was he to argue. Filling his mouth with a mixture of pork and noodles, he chewed more quickly than the delicious flavour deserved and swallowed. "What about oji-san?"

"He's upstairs with Uryū. They're eating. I offered to keep an eye on you and Renji-san for a few minutes."

That was useful. With luck Ichigo would be able to sneak in and out again without having to get into a fight with Ryūken. "Great. Then I need you to do me something," he said. "Check on Byakuya with your special sight thingie and tell me if there's any of Renji's reiryoku inside him." Another mouthful, this one followed by a slurp of rich broth. "We think we might have a way to fix him, but we can't tell if it's working. Can you do that?"

At one time, if Ichigo had asked her to be a part of something he was doing, Yuzu would have squealed excitedly and jumped all over him. Now she just lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders and said, "Of course I can. I'll do anything if it helps. Do you want me to go and check right now?"

Mouth stuffed, Ichigo could only nod at her and watch as she hurried over to the half-glass door and knocked quietly before opening it and slipping inside. For a moment Ichigo was tempted to follow, but his gut twisted at even the thought of seeing Byakuya like that again, all wrapped in kidō bandage. And what would be the point. It wasn't like Ichigo had a fancy new ability to see what was happening beneath it. He'd just get in the way. 

Telling himself he wasn't being a coward, Ichigo went back to his noodles, which didn't taste anywhere near as good as they had before, and choked down a few more mouthfuls.

He'd finished eating and discovered that Renji was still on the futon in the training room by the time the door opened again and Yuzu emerged looking pale but triumphant. "It's a very tiny amount," she announced, "I'd never have noticed if you hadn't told me it might be there."

"But it's definitely Renji's?" Yuzu's firm head nod was assurance enough. "Good. Tell oji-san that we're-" 

"I think you should tell them yourself," Yuzu said, before Ichigo could tell her anything much at all. "Then if something goes wrong-"

"Nothing's going to go wrong," 

"Famous last words, Kurosaki. I remember you saying much the same thing before you fell out of that tree and broke your arm."

Ichigo grimaced and turned around. "Cousin. You're getting quieter as well as ruder as you get older."

The corner of Uryū's mouth tilted minutely. "If you think that's rude, wait till father finds out you were trying to sneak around behind his back," he said, coming into the laboratory and closing the door behind him.

"I'm not sneaking!" Ichigo protested.

"Then I'll go tell him you're back," Uryū said, hand returning to the door. 

With a hissed, "Don't you dare," Ichigo grabbed him by the arm before he could go anywhere. Uryū stopped, looked down at the hand and raised a cynical eyebrow. Ichigo sagged and released him. "Please. If I tell him, he'll say I can't do it and we'll end up in another fight." 

"Has it occurred to you that he says no because your plans tend to be very bad?" Uryū said. "You need to learn to think things through properly before you run in unprepared."

Ichigo was so very tempted to bring up the spat between Uryū and his dad earlier, but he didn't actually have a death wish, so he changed the subject. "What if I tell you? Then, if you think it's okay, you can go tell Ryūken in a way that'll make him say yes." And while he was doing that, Ichigo could sneak back into his inner world. Score!

"Only on condition that you actually listen if I tell you it's a bad idea," Uryū replied, after a moment's thought.

"Deal." Ichigo quickly outlined what he'd seen and heard in Renji's inner world, the conclusions they'd drawn and what he and Renji had come up with as a solution. 

After he'd finished speaking, Uryū continued staring down at his feet for a long minute, one arm across his chest, the other pressed to the spot between his eyebrows. Then he looked up and said, "Start with shikai. There's two of you. If you both release bankai simultaneously, you could destroy the rock that's holding him, or kill him outright."

Ichigo, mouth open ready to argue, shut it again. "That's actually a really good idea," he said.

"This is why you should think plans through properly before you execute them," Uryū replied, moving over to the bench and picking up Ichigo's empty ramen bowl. "Apart from that, your reasoning seems sound, and with Yuzu-chan and Isane-san monitoring things from this side, along with myself and Sado-san to keep watch over you and Abarai, it should be safe enough." He paused, frowning slightly. "How long do you think it's going to take?"

How long is a piece of string, was the first thing that sprang to Ichigo's mind. He managed not to say it, going instead with, "I've no clue. Yuzu says there's only a tiny bit of reiryoku inside Byakuya, and Renji was in bankai for ages. Then again, he wasn't staying close to Byakuya so maybe that'll speed it up. Or maybe there's something else going on entirely. We'll have to wait and see."

"Then you should definitely set time limits. Immediate and long term ones. The latter can wait until we get a better idea of how this is going to work. But in the short term, there's two of you, so I see no reason why you can't alternate shifts, allowing each of you to come out of jinzen to eat, and sleep for a short time if necessary. Each time that happens, Yuzu can fill you in on how things are progressing from her perspective, so you're not working blind. I would suggest four hours initially, and adjust from there."

Ichigo listened to all of this, his jaw slowly dropping open. It was like hearing Byakuya outline a battle-plan and, if Ryūken had come up with it, Ichigo would have brushed it off as his uncle being a control freak again. But this was Uryū, and okay he wasn't exactly laid-back, but he was still only Ichigo's age and this was some high-level shit. 

"Y-yeah," he said, once Uryū had finished. "Sounds… great. We should do that. All of it."

"Excellent. Then, do you have a foolproof way of waking you from jinzen? Having seen how unresponsive you both become, I wouldn't want to have to wake you in an emergency."

Ichigo thoughts whirled as he tried to catch up. "Something Quincy?" he suggested eventually. "Maybe a touch of that blut thing."

"Blut arterie?" Uryū's eyebrows climbed even higher this time, warning Ichigo that he might have got the term wrong. This was why he need Quincy training, stat. 

"Look, I don't know what it's called," he snapped, "Just give my reishi a yank. I'll tell Ossan to be keeping an eye out for it and he'll let me know."

"I can do that," Uryū replied smugly, without giving Ichigo the proper name, the bastard. "Now, if that's all settled, I shall go and let father know what we've agreed." Bowl in hand, Uryū made for the door. As he reached it, he glanced back. "Well? What are you waiting for, Kurosaki? Go and fix your boyfriend so the rest of us can get some proper rest." And with that he strode off across the training room.

Ichigo stared after him in stunned silence. Then a small voice from behind him said, "Byakuya-sama's your boyfriend? As well as Sado-san?"


	29. Polaroid Heroes

Renji was planning to be well and truly pruned by the time Ichigo got back. It had been weeks since he'd had a proper soak and this was heaven. Or it would be if it weren't for the wailing.

Guilt twisted in Renji's gut as his gaze gravitated to the rocky niche where Byakuya still writhed in his restraints. He'd been so convinced that he was after Zabimaru, and all that time the poor bastard had been starving to death. He should have known, should have guessed. Especially with those drugs he'd taken. According to Zommari they suppressed appetite as well stopping people sleep. 

The wailing ticked up a notch. Renji sank beneath the water, but it followed him down, a kind of echoing vibration that he could feel in the top of his head. It was no good. He couldn't rest like this, and if they were going to try the bankai thing when Ichigo got back, he had to recharge. 

Shoving himself up and out of the water in one move, Renji called, "Zabimaru? You around?"

The baboon appeared on a rock ledge above him, snake-tail weaving into view a moment later. "Where else would we be?" it hissed. "Thiss is our world too, though you failed to ask if we wanted visitors."

"Ichigo? He's not a visitor, he's-" 

"Not a part of you. And unlike with that one, there is no formal tie between you," the baboon said, clambering inelegantly down from its perch.

"Thus it would have been polite to assk first," snake-tail hissed, swaying erratically from side to side as though torn between irritation and being a counter-weight.

"You're right. I'm sorry," Renji replied, dipping his chin. "Is it okay if he comes back?"

"Sso long as it sstops this fearful racket," snake-tail said, curling itself tight against the baboon's back as they reached ground level. Did snakes even have ears? Renji had no clue.

"Actually I've got an idea how to fix that," he said. "Would you guys mind if we went shikai for a bit, see if that helps keep him quiet?" That way he'd still be able to rest and recharge. From experience, Renji knew he could stay in shikai for days if necessary. Even sleep with it. 

Snake-tail grumbled hissily but didn't argue. The baboon simply headed for the water in silence, sliding back into the pool as their reiatsu rose enough to let Renji know that the answer was yes.

Renji raised his to match, feeling the kick over into shikai and the energy around him settle out at that slightly higher level. A moment later, the wailing stopped and for a second Renji thought they'd cracked it. Then Byakuya whimpered. A sound that was almost worse than the wailing.

Forcing himself to go closer, Renji hunkered down and did his best to see past what remained of the man he loved and look at the situation objectively. Byakuya was feeding on the shikai, that much was obvious. His eyes were pretty glazed, clawed hands working, though not with the same ecstatic movement as they did with the bankai. But what he really looked was uncomfortable. The rock was tight round his limbs and over his chest, and it couldn't be fun being propped up like that all the time. Plus, it had to be damn cold with nothing on but that ragged yukata and no reiryoku to speak of.

Rotating on his heel, Renji contemplated the pool and then Byakuya again. "Do you reckon we could move him?" he asked. It was probably dumb, though not the worst idea he'd ever had.

Zabimaru had come as far as the pool's edge to watch them though they still seemed wary. Justifiably so, Renji was sure, but they could only deal with one problem at a time.

"I see no reason why not," the baboon said.

Changing the structure of his inner world permanently took a change in heart and mindset, according to Zabimaru, since the one was directly related to the other. But temporary manipulations were mostly just a matter of willpower, and Renji had that in spades. With a bit of focus, he carved out another set of rock shackles, every bit as secure as the first because he might want Byakuya to be comfortable but he was still potentially dangerous, and then pushed his reiatsu up to bankai level for the move itself. Predictably, Byakuya zoned out completely, and Renji took that as his cue to move him.

As the rock released, he caught Byakuya and staggered in surprise. Gods, had he weighed this little when they'd dragged him up here? Renji didn't remember. He'd not been letting himself think about it. He'd not let himself think about anything much until he'd heard Ichigo calling for him and known that help was finally at hand.

Now he let himself really look at the man-monster in his arms. At pale skin that Renji had always found so beautiful, now corpse-white and stretched tight across bones too narrow to be human. At flat black eyes where once volcanic grey had watched him so knowingly, so admiringly. At lips thinned to nothing around a mouth that had become a monster's maw, full of jagged splintered teeth. Hair like string hung in ugly clumps from Byakuya's misshapen skull, and spider-like limbs were tipped in skeletal fingers and bat's claws. And that belly, so hugely distended that Byakuya looked a year or more pregnant, his genitals withered to nothing beneath.

The night they'd escaped Matsuyama, when Renji had had a meltdown over his scars, Byakuya had told him that beauty was a fleeting thing and not for soldiers. And Renji agreed with that, wholeheartedly. But looking at Byakuya like this, so monstrous and wrong, if they managed to fix him on the inside but the outside stayed this way, what then? Would that change anything? Was appearance alone enough to make Renji stop caring about him? Was he really that shallow?

Byakuya shifted, nuzzling closer, and sighed. It was a behaviour Renji had witnessed thousands of times over decades of watching Byakuya as he slept. It was as familiar to him as a heartbeat, and as beloved as a kiss. 

"Shit," Renji croaked, pulling that pitiful body close and pressing his nose into sparse lank hair. "You're still in there, aren't you. I didn't think…I couldn't-" His voice broke, only coming back as a whisper. "I hoped you were gone. But we'll fix you somehow, I promise. Ichigo's got an idea and you know how the kid is, he ain't gonna stop until you're back to normal. We'll make this right. We'll make you right." And if that meant black eyes and corpse white skin then they'd deal, because it might be the Gotei way to turn your back on someone when they were hurt, but it wasn't the right way. 

Renji sat for what was probably too long, holding Byakuya in his lap. But eventually claws began drawing blood and Byakuya's movements became more agitated. Reluctantly, Renji surrendered him up to the new set of shackles. He cried as Renji's reiatsu dropped to shikai levels, but soon quieted again as warm water lapped around him up to his neck. He almost seemed to be enjoying it, moving his hands slowly from side to side, though that might just have been Renji's imagination.

"And to think I thought you were dangerous," Renji said, slipping into the water beside him. 

Across the pool, Zabimaru eyed Byakuya warily. "Uncontrolled, he would have torn you apart," the baboon said after a few moments. 

"And as you were before, you could not have faced him," added snake-tail. 

Renji tipped his head back against the rock. Zabimaru was right, of course. He'd defeated Byakuya easily, but only because the three of them had been working together. If they'd still been shattered like they had been before Renji got to grips with his insecurities, Renji would have been facing high level kidō and an army of skeletons as a child armed only with a sealed sword. Byakuya would have taken him easily, and then he'd have taken Zabimaru, and then he'd have taken what was left and eaten every scrap.

"And he would still have been a monster," the baboon said, as Renji's eyes slid closed. "A soul cannot be sustained for long on stolen power, only on that which is freely given."

*

A smack round the ear woke Renji some time later, courtesy of snake-tail going by the way it was swaying smugly above the baboon's back. Renji curled a lip at it and growled, "What was that for?"

"The other returns," the baboon said hauling itself out of the pool and filling the air with diamond droplets of water as they shook off the excess. They looked ready to leave again. 

"You could stay," Renji suggested, standing up. "Knowing Ichigo, he'd love to meet you, and he's bringing his zanpakutō with him this time."

He was out of the pool and putting on his shirts, when strange reiatsu suddenly appeared downslope. Renji swung round, almost losing his footing on the slick stone, and there, at the boundary where volcanic rock became lush meadow, stood three figures. One unmistakably Ichigo, and two others, the first very tall and so black that it looked like living shadow, and the second, pure white and reeking of hollow. 

Renji had his sword in his hand before he remembered reaching for it. It came with eagerness, Zabimaru's howl in his mind as well as his ears as they moved to defend themselves and Byakuya from the invader.

Then Ichigo's hand was on his arm, his familiar reiatsu wrapping around Renji, drowning out the stink of hollow. "It's okay. Renji, let me explain. He's not dangerous. He's just a part of me."

"You?" Pushing Ichigo away, Renji looked him up and down and then past him down the slope towards the others. Now his mind wasn't completely swamped by hollow, he could see the resemblance. But- "That's not possible- How?"

"That bastard, Urahara. After you and Byakuya left, I had to get bankai quickly. He offered to help, but afterwards, when I was still exhausted, he stabbed me with a sword and I hollowfied." Ichigo raised a hand to his face and a white mask with two vertical black stripes formed beneath his fingers. Black and gold eyes stared back at Renji through the eye-holes.

"Hollow-fied." Even face to face with it, Renji was having trouble believing. This was Ichigo. His lover more even than Byakuya, he was now willing to admit. This kid- no, this _man_ had come into his life, turned everything in it upside down. He'd taught Renji that sitting still wasn't an option, that he had to fight to be everything he could be. He'd saved people left, right and centre, turned Byakuya into an equal, and forced Renji into being honest with himself and his zanpakutō. 

Basically he'd been the most unselfish soul Renji had ever come across in his life, and Urahara had done this to him! It was Hisagi all over again, only worse, because this was Ichigo. "I'm going to kill that bastard," Renji snarled, feeling his reiatsu start to swell and not having enough fucks to stop it. "I'm going to rip him apart and feed him his fucking intestines! I'm gonna-"

The rest of the sentence got lost in Ichigo's mouth as warm human lips pressed urgently against Renji's, hands cupping the sides of his face, fingertips digging into his neck. A tongue slid in beside his own, stroking, urging. Renji grabbed what was on offer and dragged Ichigo in close, deepening the kiss, plunging his tongue back into Ichigo's mouth as if he could drive every scrap of taint from his soul through the sheer force of his love. Reiatsu closed around them, mixing and merging, a black and red curtain of power. It felt so good, to hold him again, to feel his heat and have that lean body, so deceptively full of strength, pressed against him.

Ichigo moaned into his mouth and Renji felt his arousal surge, taking their reiatsu with it. He dropped his sword and his fingers wound into Ichigo's hair, holding him still so Renji could break away for just long enough to drag kisses across Ichigo's face and down that long elegant throat, to nibble at corded tendons and feel Ichigo's moan against his lips. But he couldn't stay away long. Their mouths found each other again, their usual back and forth less of a game this time and more a reaffirmation of everything they'd shared.

They could have got lost in each other for hours, but they had to come up for air sometime. When they finally parted, Ichigo pressed his forehead to Renji's and, still panting, murmured, "Gods, I missed you. I don't care what we have to do, I don't want you guys running off without me again."

Renji closed his eyes and nodded, though he knew it might not be that easy. He'd try though, with all his might, because Zabimaru might be his other half, but Ichigo was his soulmate. As they calmed, their reiatsu began to fall, quickly dipping well below shikai. Renji braced himself for the wail, but it never came. 

Curious, he glanced over at Byakuya, who was slumped in his bonds, eyes closed. Renji's heart gave curious squeezy-thump. "He's sleeping," he murmured into Ichigo's damp hairline. It smelt of fresh sweat and arousal and, for some weird reason, pork ramen. Renji nuzzled closer.

"Hmm?" Ichigo hummed, turning his head on Renji's shoulder. "You're right. He must like the water. Good idea moving him."

Renji shrugged. "He looked uncomfortable stuck there on the rock face." 

"Like a princess waiting for a dragon."

"Princess…?" It didn't sound like Ichigo meant it the same way as Mendori always had, but hearing the word directed at Byakuya still rubbed Renji the wrong way.

Something of what he was feeling must have bled over. Ichigo averted his eyes muttering, "Maybe not. Unless he's a monster princess." 

It seemed to be a tired attempt at humour and it tugged on Renji's already tender heartstrings. He dropped another kiss into Ichigo's hair and, when he looked up again, he caught sight of the two monochrome figures still waiting at the bottom of the slope. They were patient, he'd give them that. "You gonna introduce me to your zanpakutō before we get started?"

Ichigo pulled back with a dry chuckle. "I think you need to do some introductions first," he said, his gaze shifting to something behind Renji. 

Renji glanced over his shoulder. Zabimaru was only a few feet away, the baboon on all fours as though it had been about to attack, but with its head turned away like it was trying not to watch them kiss. Snake-tail was nothing but a lump at the baboon's rear end. Hiding, Renji assumed.

Trying not to grin, Renji took a step back and said, "Zabimaru, this is my lover, Shiba Ichigo. Ichigo, this is my zanpakutō spirit and the other half of me, Zabimaru. Also known as baboon and snake-tail."

"I'm honoured to meet you," Ichigo said, dipping a polite bow. "Please call me Ichigo." Baboon dipped back. Snake-tail only emerged for long enough to flick its tongue once before vanishing again. Was it shy or something? Ichigo gave them both a curious look and then glanced over at Renji. "Other half of you?" he asked. 

Renji nodded proudly. "Together we're a nue demon," he said.

"Nue demon." Little frown lines appeared between Ichigo's eyes. "I'm sure we covered that in school… A chimera, right? With the head a monkey, the tail of a snake…" The corners of Ichigo's mouth twitched up, and his gaze slid down Renji's nude body. "The limbs and torso of a tiger and the balls of a tanuki?"

"Body of a tanuki," Renji protested, turning to grab his hakama and shove wet legs into them

"I'm think my version's more accurate," came Ichigo's laugh from somewhere behind him. There was silence for a second and then Ichigo said, "Your back's all healed, you know."

Renji's stomach lurched. He'd forgotten about his scars. 

Holding his hakama with one hand, he felt tentatively up behind him and found skin that was almost smooth. There were ridges, shallow ones, no more than slight welts, but that was all. Shaking slightly, he moved his fingers downward to his backside and the tops of his thighs where the deepest gouges had been in the muscle. Even here he couldn't feel much. Ichigo was right, they were healed.

"It looks like it happened years ago. Just faded pink scars," Ichigo was saying. "You didn't know." 

That last wasn't a question. Renji guessed from his reaction that Ichigo hadn't needed to make it one. "I had no idea," he said, horrified when his voice came out thick with emotion.

"Well, now you do," Ichigo said quietly. "So don't feel like you have to cover up any more because of them."

Renji stared at the hakama in his hands. Was that why he'd reached for them? He never would have before. Renji had been proud of his body, it was his best asset, and yet he'd done the same thing when snake-tail said Ichigo had arrived, grabbed for his shirts to cover up. And just then, he'd been fine until Ichigo _looked_ at him, and then he'd had to hide.

"But if you're just cold or whatever-," Ichigo continued, suddenly sounding really uncomfortable.

"And deprive you of the view?" Renji said, letting the hakama fall to the ground and standing upright. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and he felt the urge to grab his clothes again. 

This couldn't just be the scars, could it? He wasn't that sensitive about them.

A memory, of a tumble of coloured pictures spilling from his lap to a hotel room floor slammed into Renji's mind. The photographs. Gods, he'd forgotten all about the photographs. He'd not taken them with him when he left. Were they still in the apartment? Were they safe?

"Where are we?" he demanded, and now his voice had an edge that Renji didn't even know what to call. He stooped to grab his hakama again.

"In this training room under Ryūken's apartment block," Ichigo replied. "Why?"

Because Renji had to find those things and destroy them before someone else stumbled over them. "Who's with us? You mentioned your sister, is she out there now?" His movements were getting jerky, he knew, but he couldn't stop it.

"Yeah, there's her and Chad and someone called Itane or something. They're downstairs with us. And then upstairs in the apartment-"

Renji didn't wait to hear who was upstairs. Yanking his hakama ties tight, he spun round, grabbed Ichigo by the shirt and snapped, "I need to get out there, right now." 

Ichigo flinched slightly but said only, "Go. I can hold the fort here." He jerked his chin in Byakuya's direction, and crap, Renji had forgotten all about him, about what they were supposed to be doing. 

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. "You sure?"

"Positive," Ichigo said. "Uryū said we should come out of jinzen regularly anyway to eat, and I just had noodles, so you might as well go now." He paused. "So long as Zabimaru's okay with us being here without you."

Zabimaru. Right. Renji spun round looking for his zanpakutō spirits, and found them in the far side of the pool, only the baboon's pink face and the very tip of snake-tail's snout visible above the water. Renji hurried over and hunkered down beside them. "I gotta go do a thing," he said when they both surfaced enough to hear him. "You gonna be okay if Ichigo stays here without me?"

Snake-tail sank like a stone, but the baboon stayed up long enough to say, "It would be better if we met our counterparts first."

Ichigo's zanpakutō. They'd not been introduced. Crap. 

He was about to run back to Ichigo when snake-tail hissed, "Is it the picturess that bother you so much or what they represent?"

Helplessness. Vulnerability. The kind of exposure that reminded Renji way too much of that moment up on the scaffold on Sōkyoku Hill just before the first blow landed. Emotions surged through him and he couldn't move. His feet were frozen to the rocks, his limbs lead. There were hands touching him, tugging at his clothes, and he could hear voices, sweet, cajoling, calling his name, 'Ren-ji.' 'Ren-ji.'

"Renji!"

Renji managed to stop his fist just before it punched Ichigo in the throat. Ichigo's eyes were wide, startled. He'd not even tried to defend himself, and that more than anything else cut through the flashback. "Fuck," Renji gasped, suddenly shaking too much to stay on his feet. He sagged and then sat. This close to the pool, his hakama were going to get soaked. 

"Are you okay," Ichigo asked, crouching down beside him, and followed it immediately with a mumbled, "Course you're not, stupid question." Then louder again. "Am I alright this close? You're not gonna hit me again?"

That one Renji managed to react to. He turned his hand palm-side up on his knee and Ichigo took the hint, shuffling closer and resting his own hand gently on top of it. For a long moment they just sat, Ichigo mercifully silent as Renji tried to get his head round what had just happened. Normally flashbacks weren't a problem, he'd been having them long enough that he'd learnt to snap himself out of them. He'd have been a gibbering wreck by the time he hit forty if he hadn't. But that had been different. There'd been no visual or contextual clues for him to latch on to, and without them, no way of focusing on the differences between memory and reality.

"There's no need to be embarrassed," Ichigo said after a minute or two, when Renji had almost calmed down enough to start thinking about moving. "I used to have flashbacks all the time when I was little, about mom dying. Asano-sensei said it was natural."

Renji closed his eyes and huffed a sigh. "I'm not embarrassed. I know what flashbacks are, but normally I can control them. This one just got away from me is all."

"Oh." Silence. "Sorry." More silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." What could he say? 'I don't remember anything but there's photographic evidence of me having a really great weekend and now you looking at me in the nude makes me hyperventilate and fall over'. It sounded stupid even to him. He didn't even get why it was bothering him so much. He was wagging his dick at Ichigo earlier.

"Okay." Silence again and then, "If you ever do, I'm here."

Rather than answer, Renji squeezed Ichigo's hand and said, "Introductions. Then I can go."

"Right, yeah," Ichigo said, standing up, "Only before we go down there, I'd better warn you, my zanpakutō's a bit of asshole, so try not to overreact if he insults you."

Still holding Ichigo's hand, Renji gave him a faux incredulous look. "Your zanpakutō, an asshole? I'm shocked, Shiba, truly shocked. And you such a nice polite boy."

"Fuck off," Ichigo growled, snatching his hand back and stalking off. 

Renji sniggered, hauling himself up too. Damn but it was good to have Ichigo back. He was such an easy mark. 

A couple of running steps and he had an arm slung around those stiff shoulders, planting a kiss on a pinking ear, making sure to blow a little hot air into it first. Ichigo elbowed him in the ribs and together they half-walked, half-wrestled their way down the slope.

They found the hollow sitting at the other spirit's feet when they got to the bottom. Renji tried not to look at it, disturbed by how much it resembled Ichigo. It must be really creepy having a doppleganger-hollow living in your soul. It was amazing Ichigo had even brought it with him, except leaving it unattended probably wasn't a good idea either.

The one standing, Ichigo's zanpakutō spirit presumably, was even taller than Renji had initially thought, towering over all of them. He was humanoid, with dark hair that stuck out like a wavy halo around his head and a thin face mostly concealed by white wrappings. They started just under his eyes and carried on right down, even under his shadowy clothing. He also had the weirdest reiatsu Renji had ever sensed. With all the hollow stink, he'd not noticed before, but this close, he couldn't miss it.

"Guys, this is Abarai Renji, one of my boyfriends," Ichigo said, then, "Renji, this is my zanpakutō, Zangetsu." Only, he gestured not at the shadow-man, but to the seated hollow beside it.

" _That's_ your zanpakutō!" Renji blurted before he could stop himself.

"Oh yeah, got a great catch there," the hollow drawled, though it made no attempt to get up. It looked sick, with sunken cheeks and dark rings under its black and gold eyes, though that might be normal for all Renji knew.

"It's not Renji's fault," Ichigo snapped, though the scowl he shot Renji's way said otherwise. 

"What?" Renji protested. "You said you'd been hollowfied and he looks just like you, so I assumed he was your hollowfied self."

The hollow and Ichigo exchanged looks. Some kind of silent communication must have passed between them because a moment later the hollow shrugged and said, "Got me, king. I just came out like this." Narrowed black and gold eyes turned on Renji. "And you'd better treat him right, monkey-boy, or I'll rip your balls off and feed 'em to ya."

An asshole, Ichigo had said. Don't overreact. Renji did his best not to let his irritation show and knew he'd failed when the hollow smirked at him knowingly.

"And this is Ossan." Ichigo gestured to the shadow-guy then paused, seeming to brace himself before continuing, "He's a remnant of Yhwach Bach, and the personification of my Quincy powers."

Renji's jaw dropped. He knew it had, but he couldn't have shut it again if his life depended on it. Because this was Yhwach Bach? 

A year ago Renji wouldn't have been fazed because he wouldn't have known who the guy was. Now, after Ichigo's arrival and with the whole of Seireitei buzzing about Quincy again, Renji knew exactly who he was looking at. This was the Father of the Quincy and the bogeyman who, three hundred years ago, had taken out half the senior officer corp of the Gotei 13 and destroyed a good chunk of Seireitei before finally been brought down through a combination of sheer numbers and Aizen Sōsuke's hypnosis shikai. The key phrase being, 'brought down'. As in, killed, destroyed. And yet here a piece of him was, living inside Ichigo's soul.

It kind of put the hollowfied zanpakutō into perspective.

"Renji?"

Ichigo was speaking to him. Renji dragged his gaze away from the greatest evil Soul Society had encountered in a millennium and onto Ichigo. Fingers pressed firmly against his chin and his mouth snapped closed. Only now it wouldn't open again, and there were questions he wanted to ask, things he needed to know, but for the life of him, he couldn't think where to start.

Ichigo did, apparently. "There's a piece of him inside every Quincy, even those born after he was killed. It's passed down, I'm not sure how, but not normally as a spirit like this. Ryūken thinks he only appears like this for me, because of me being half-shinigami and having an inner world."

"Right," Renji finally managed, his eyes shifting back to the Quincy spirit. _The piece of Yhwach Bach_

"Anyway, I call him Ossan and he's been there ever since the beginning… Renji?"

Renji froze, his fingers millimetres from the Quincy spirit's chest. "What, will it eat me if I touch it?"

"No! It's just…"

"It ain't exactly polite to go poking someone when you ain't even given 'em ya name," the hollow said, adding a mumbled, "Not that ya gave it to me either," and then quieter still, "Typical fucking shinigami."

"My name." Renji licked his lips and looked up, this time into the eyes of the Quincy spirit. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, something maniacal maybe? Like Kurotsuchi, with rolling irises and pupils like pin-pricks. Instead, calm brown eyes gazed back down at him from a face apparently unperturbed by Renji's behaviour, which even he had to admit by now was bordering on strange. 

"Um," he said. "Abarai Renji." He paused. That wasn't right, not anymore. He tried again. "Zabimaru-Abarai Renji." Better. "Pleased to meet you." Belatedly remembering his manners, he dipped a bow and ended up head-butting the Quincy in the chest. It was something like head-butting a wall, but the hand that came out to steady him was purely human.

"He says sorry for not moving out of the way, and that he's very pleased to meet you too, Zabimaru-Abarai Renji." 

When Renji glanced over at him, Ichigo's eyes were dancing with mirth. "You're taking the piss out of me," he complained, gaze flicking between the three of them. "All of you."

"Not really."

"I told you, we're all one. Me and Zabimaru and-

"It's not the name," Ichigo yelped, holding up his hands. "That's fine, great even, but it was kind of funny seeing you stuck for words."

Oh that. Renji huffed. "Ichigo, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you have a hollow and a piece of the Quincy king living in your soul! Even I'm gonna be lost for words finding out a thing like that."

Ichigo's face dropped immediately. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, but I didn't find out about Ossan till Zangetsu got free and then-" He huffed and shook his head. "I'll explain everything later. It'll take forever and we've not got time right now."

No, they really didn't. Renji had photos to find and then they had a Byakuya to fix. "Just promise me you've not got any other nasty surprises up your sleeve," Renji said, casting a wary eye at the two spirits. Predictably, the hollow smirked. Renji was starting to get what Ichigo meant about it being an asshole.

"Nothing I can think of." Ichigo chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. "But this is me, so-"

"Wait a few days and something's bound to turn up," Renji finished for him. 

Ichigo looked so depressed at that, that Renji reached out, hauled him in and squeezed till his feet left the floor. He fought for all of about a second, before grabbing Renji by the ears and planting a hard kiss on his lips. Only experience kept Renji on his feet as the kiss deepened, one of them opening their mouths and then there was tongue and more than a bit of gropage and then a voice from beside them said, "For fuck's sake, king, get a room if ya gonna do shit like that."

Ichigo jerked back like he'd been scalded and Renji released him immediately. He spun away, scarlet and wiping at his mouth. Renji ground his teeth. The hollow's sneer had been too close to the type of shit the Mendoris used to come out with, and it looked like it had hit Ichigo the same way. 

"Don't like it, don't watch," he snapped at the hollow, whose triumphant black and gold gaze met Renji's for a brief second before dimming slightly and flicking back to Ichigo. And wasn't that interesting. Was the hollow jealous? 

"You should go," Ichigo said, still with his back turned. But Renji wasn't prepared to leave on a note like this. Stepping forward, he carefully wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist and leaned in, resting his chin on Ichigo's shoulder.

"I think your little white clone's feeling possessive," he whispered. Ichigo went still for a second, and then peered at him from the corner of his eye. Renji nodded, saw Ichigo's expression turn thoughtful, and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek before letting him go. In a normal voice, he said, "We should move this to the top of the hill and check in with Zabimaru. For some reason I don't think they were expecting a hollow and a Quincy when I said to bring your zanpakutō."

"It's really not my fault, you know," Ichigo grumbled as they set off back up the slope.

Renji glanced back over his shoulder and saw the hollow shrugging off the Quincy's help to stand and walk. "What's up with that thing anyway? It looks sick."

"He's called Zangetsu, and he's not sick, he's recovering from some really serious injuries," Ichigo replied, slowing down and turning to look for himself. He grimaced at what he saw, but didn't go to help. "I told him to just let me take the sword, but he insisted on coming with it, stupid idiot."

The words were insulting, but the tone was fond. Renji got the impression that the relationship between Ichigo and his zanpakutō was just as complex as the one between himself and Zabimaru.

They did reach the top of the slope eventually. Zabimaru was still in the pool, about as far from Byakuya as it was possible to get, though their reiatsu was back up to shikai level, presumably because Byakuya was awake. He was playing with the water again and Renji found he had to look away from the expression of wonder on his face. For all his monstrous features, there was something disturbingly childlike about it.

"Monkey-boy's got a fucking onsen!" the hollow - Zangetsu, the thing had a name, Renji should learn to use it - crowed when it joined them. Shoving the sword it was carrying at Ichigo, it said, "Here hang on ta this," and started stripping. "And first thing, once yer done sorting out your stupid shitty love life, I want some serious landscaping redesign. Got it?" 

"Hey," Ichigo snapped, taking the sword and smacking the hollow upside the head with the hilt, apparently oblivious to the network of livid pink scars beneath the white shihakushō. "You can't just get in without asking. This isn't our pool."

Zangetsu, who was already down to a pair of white boxers with red hearts printed on them, glowered at him but turned and bowed politely to Zabimaru. "Pleased to meet ya, I'm Zangetsu. I hope we can work well together." Then it turned back to Ichigo and whined, " _Now_ can I get in?" 

Renji tried not to laugh, he really did, but considering what a pain in his ass Ichigo had been at times, seeing him saddled with an equally annoying zanpakutō spirit felt like the best kind of karma. 

"Try not to drown each other while I'm gone," he laughed, waving a hand at them. Since Zabimaru hadn't attacked immediately, Renji reckoned he was pretty safe leaving them to sort things out without him. "I'll see you when I get back."

The mountain onsen faded into harsh fluorescent light and silvery grey walls. As the familiar deadening sensation crept over him, stifling his ability to sense reiatsu properly, the subtle aches and pains in his body threatened to drag Renji back to the saferoom beneath the hospital and the aftermath of one of Byakuya's attacks. But they'd only ever happened in the living quarters, so this had to be the real world, not a memory or a flashback. Plus, although his body felt like it had been held in one position for too long, he wasn't sore in the right places for sex to have happened.

He was also alone. 

Sitting up, Renji scrubbed his hands over his face and then peered around for an exit. There was a door on the wall close to where he was sitting, and another across the other side of the training room. One of them had to be the way out and it made sense to try the nearest one first. Keeping his movements as quiet as he could, Renji rolled to his feet and approached the door. He'd hardly gone a couple of steps when he heard voices from the other side. 

"It still seems exceedingly unwise. Hachigen-san, you have a better understanding of how soul starvation works, is my nephew putting himself in unreasonable danger with this course of action?"

"I think not, Ryūken-dono," Hachigen's quiet voice replied. "Whether their attempt will work, I cannot say, however if Byakuya-dono's power is as curtailed as your son describes, then it should not be dangerous. My main concern is the presence of the other zanpakutō spirits and whether that will cause the desire for his own zanpakutō to awaken prematurely."

Renji hadn't thought of that possibility. He'd make sure to mention it to Ichigo when he got back. Silently, he turned, planning to head for the other door, which by a process of elimination had to be the exit. But the next question brought him up short.

"Where do you think it is? Kuchiki's zanpakutō." 

The voice was younger than the previous unknown speaker but with a similar dogmatic tone, which meant it was probably Uryū, Ichigo's cousin. In theory Renji had heard his voice before, when they'd rescued him from the 12th, but back then it had sounded very different, hoarse and exhausted and sick. Now he sounded just fine, and Renji wanted to know the answer to that question as much as he did.

"Perhaps he left it in Soul Society before they fled. After all they seem to have brought little else with them." That was Ryūken, the uncle. Renji had never met him, he didn't think, though he'd seen photographs of him at Arisawa-sensei's apartment.

"Simply misplacing a sword is not the same thing as losing a zanpakutō. Even if the blade is broken or destroyed, the spirit is still present." Hachigen again. Now there was a weird one. Ichigo seemed to trust the guy implicitly and so Renji had gone along with it, but there was still that nagging doubt. After all, he'd been prepared to let the Iba kill all those humans, and he was helping them import weapons into Soul Society. 

Having said that, he did seem to know his stuff and none of the rest of them were experts, so for now Renji was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Hachigen was still speaking. "What Abarai-san seems to have been describing is the loss of a zanpakutō, and that is both an entirely different thing and technically impossible since the only person capable of such a feat is dead." 

"And that would have been?"

"The previous Kuchiki clan-head, Kuchiki Kōga-sama. As a junior member of the kidō corps, I witnessed his shikai several times, and the loss of the zanpakutō on the inside is a common factor."

It sounded like Ichigo hadn't been far off the mark then when he'd suggested some connection to Kōga. 

"That was the one Isshin killed," Ryūken said flatly. "Byakuya's uncle, if I remember rightly. Do any other members of his family have a similar ability?"

Okay, now that was an angle Renji hadn't considered. Byakuya was by far the strongest of his clan but what if Kōga had had off-spring, some unacknowledged child who saw Byakuya as a usurper. Maybe he ran into someone like that the night before they left and- 

But if that was the case, why hadn't Byakuya just told him?

"Not that I know of, Ryūken-dono, however it is many years since I was privileged with access to such information."

"I think it would be difficult to keep such a thing secret, father," Uryū said. "With the inherent danger of such a power, I'm sure the onmitsukidō would have kept a very close eye on any relatives and removed them from the picture."

True. And Byakuya wouldn't have let them slip by either. 

Hachigen agreed with him a moment later. "I concur, Uryū-dono, though they would have attempted to recruit them first. I understand the tenshintai they use in Kōga's stead is a poor replacement."

"Tenshintai? I don't think I've heard that term." 

Renji had. It was a bogeyman-tale told to all new recruits; mind your manners or the 2nd will rip out your zanpakutō and make it kill you. But it didn't work if you had bankai, which had given Renji all the more reason to achieve it as soon as possible. Too soon maybe, given recent events.

There was movement inside the room. Renji scuttled backwards and pressed himself to the wall beside the door on the off-chance someone looked out. They didn't but being out of earshot meant he missed the bulk of Hachigen's answer. He got back just in time to hear, "…three days, or so I was told. Urahara-sanseki, as he was then, was unable to extend its limit any further, so I think it unlikely that the tenshintai is the cause of Byakuya-dono's loss."

Urahara had invented that thing? Renji scowled. Of course he had. That was totally the creepy bastard's style. And Senbonzakura might not have been stolen by one of them, but there was nothing stopping Urahara developing something else, something more powerful, and using that on Byakuya.

Considering what the fucker had done to Ichigo, Renji wouldn't be surprised.

Anger rising, Renji slipped across the room and out of the door into the basement. He needed to get back into his inner world quickly and talk to Ichigo, but first he needed to find the photographs and destroy them. 

Upstairs, the apartment door was propped open, and being worked on by a man in blue overalls who Renji didn't recognise. For a moment Renji hesitated. He wasn't in the mood for conversation and his experience with humans said that trying to get in while the guy was there was going to mean at least some interaction. And then he remembered. No gigai any more. He didn't even have to enter the apartment that way if he didn't want to. 

In the end he did, making the man shiver as he eased through a gap that was hardly there. Inside, the apartment seemed to be empty. And also way more trashed than when Renji had left, though someone had started tidying up again. The TV in the living room had a deep dent in the middle of the screen with a spiderweb of cracks leading out all the way to the edges, and there was no sign of Kaoru's game controller or Zommari's laptop. Their stuff, which had been neatly stacked on top of their futons was also gone. Renji found it mostly shoved into trash bags in the back bedroom, along with what remained of the futons. It looked like someone had ripped everything apart with their bare hands. He went through it all carefully looking for the folder of photographs and found nothing.

It was the same story in the other bedroom, where there was nothing but a whirlwind of papers, clothing and rubbish strewn everywhere. The kitchen cupboards were empty too, their contents relegated to a cardboard box of smashed plates and cups; the new plates and cups that Zommari had bought online when they'd discovered that the police had left nothing usable behind. So who had done this more recent damage? Mendori and No-neck when they'd grabbed Byakuya? But they wouldn't have emptied the fridge, would they? And someone had, going by the broken cartons and packets slowly disintegrating in the sink.

And there was still no sign of the photographs. 

Starting to feel desperate, Renji stuck his nose into the bathroom. That was tidier and set up for use, with towels stacked on the shelf and steaming water in the tub, but even the phantom cleaner couldn't hide the holes in the plaster where the cupboard over the sink had been ripped from the wall. 

Renji closed the door and slumped back against the hallway wall, sliding down it till his ass hit the floor. Dropping his head to his knees, he tugged on the long bits of hairs at the back of his neck. He had to face the truth. The photographs weren't here. With any luck, Zommari had taken them with him when he left - which he had to have done otherwise him and Kaoru would have been stuck in the van with Renji at the same time Byakuya was. 

If not that, then there was a slight chance either Mendori or No-neck had found them. But no, if they had, they'd have used them to make Renji's life even more of a misery. 

Which left one more possibility, the one Renji didn't want to consider. That one of Ichigo's friends or family had found them and put them somewhere. Renji swallowed, hard. If that was what had happened, just don't let it be Yuzu, he thought. She was too young, too sweet.

"If you're looking for these, I found them earlier and put them to one side."

Renji's head jerked up so fast he smacked it against the wall. They'd never met, but the white-haired man standing in the hallway had to be Ichigo's uncle, Ryūken. Renji had seen a picture of him once, back at Arisawa-sensei's place, though he'd been a lot younger in that. Now he looked thinner and exhausted, his blue eyes darkly haunted, which is what a year at the 12th did for you, if you were lucky enough to survive it.

He was also holding a yellow folder in his hand. Not the same colour as the one Renji remembered, but why else would the guy assume the contents were Renji's unless he knew the photos were in it.

Renji leapt to his feet and snatched the folder off him, turning away to open it. The photographs had been wrapped in plain white paper and tucked under the cardboard flap, and pinned neatly inside the cover was the note from Hanna.

"I didn't examine the photographs in any detail, however I couldn't help but read the note. Abarai-san, what you hold in your hand is evidence of a crime. You may be a spirit, but as things stand you also have a human identity and, as a human, you are entitled to justice. What they did-"

"Did?" Renji laughed, though it came out kind of like a bark. "You saw the pictures. They just showed me a good time, where's the crime in that."

"There is one if they did it without your consent. They also tried to blackmail you."

Another laugh escaped him. He had to shove his knuckles in his mouth to get it to stop. "Now you sound like Ichigo," he said once he'd got himself kind of back under control. "D'you know the stupid bastard gave me a talk once about not having to put up with the shit Byakuya did to me?"

"I'm glad to hear he listened to some of the things I tried to teach him. Goodness knows, his father never did."

Isshin. Byakuya's mentor. All the air soughed out of Renji's lungs. "Course he didn't. He was a shinigami. What the fuck do we care about consent or love or anything except what rank you are and how much power you got and whether you were born the right side of the fucking wall. And you lot are no fucking better-" He managed to stop himself before he could go any further, muttering. "Sorry. I didn't mean to curse at ya."

"I think you're entitled to curse. I also think you're entitled to go to the police with those pictures."

"The police!" Renji tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling and this time he couldn't have said whether the sound he made was laughter or tears. "Don't you get it. One of them was a fucking policeman. Only don't ask me which one 'cause they cut off all the other guy's heads and I can't fucking remember!" As he said the last, his voice went. He pushed on anyway, feeling the crack and the tears and just kept on talking because if he didn't get this out now he was gonna choke on it. 

"I can't- I can't remember anything. About this." He held out the folder in a shaking hand. "About whatever the fuck Byakuya did at Central, or how we escaped, or how the hell we survived for those first few weeks. It's just a blank, like someone stole great big chunks out of my life and there's no way to get them back, and all this important shit happened to me and I have no clue what it was! I was there but I wasn't and I just-" And then he really was crying, great wracking sobs that were beyond embarrassing and yet totally out of his control. 

His legs went and he slid down the wall again, on his shoulder this time, and kind of hugged it, his face buried in his arms because if he couldn't stop this, he at least had to hide it. He was a Gotei lieutenant for crap's sake, not some kid. He had no real reason to cry. He wasn't injured, he wasn't dying. He'd just lost a bit of time.

So why couldn't he make it stop?

After several moments someone crouched down beside him. Then, after a moment or two more, he felt a cool hand against the back of his neck. It wasn't much. It didn't stroke or massage, it just rested there, but to Renji it felt like an anchor, like he could let the tears flow and the hand would keep him tethered so he'd know, when the storm finally blew itself out, exactly how to get home. 

Ryūken was kneeling beside him by the time Renji finally recovered enough to wipe his face on his sleeve and look up. His head hurt and so did his eyes, but Ryūken didn't seem bothered by the state of him. He gave Renji a cool look and said, "Would you prefer tea or something a little stronger? I believe Arisawa-senpai was good enough to bring both."

*

The nice thing about Ichigo's uncle was that he didn't ask questions. Renji had been nervous about accepting the tea - not sake. Even he wasn't dumb enough to drink and then sit jinzen - but Ryūken made the drink in silence, handed it over without saying anything, and then took a seat opposite Renji at a makeshift table built from cardboard boxes and didn't say a word. In fact, it was so quiet that Renji kind of felt like he owed the guy an explanation. 

"They're yakuza," he said after taking a sip of tea and putting down his cup. "They run a bar called the Red Iris down in Shinjūku. Ichigo's friend, Mizuiro - Kojima Mizuiro - introduced us when we were desperate for work. It was okay, security stuff that me and Byakuya could've done in our sleep, except it turned out one of the hosts was an undercover cop dating the boss's daughter and then, 'cause it ain't enough to just be yakuza, it turns out they're tied up with the Iba and the 12th as well. And they're shipping stuff, weapons, maybe other things, through to Soul Society. People too. Fighters. Experts. That's where Unagiya-san comes in, only Zommari's a friend and so when they kidnapped her we agreed to help him. I went to track her down, somehow got taken for the cop and suddenly everything's gone to shit."

Ryūken put his own cup down on the table and turned it between his hands, his gaze lowered. "I see," he said. Renji expected him to mention the pictures then but he didn't. Instead he said, "Offering to help Zommari-san was a very generous act given that there was no gain in it for either of you."

Renji tried not to bristle. "I told you, he's a friend. He helped us out when we first got to Tokyo, so we couldn't exactly let the yaks run off with his wife."

"Helped you when you first arrived, you say. This would be before Arisawa-senpai was able to provide you with gigai then."

"Well, yeah." Just what was the guy getting at?

"Of course, Zommari-san has high enough reiatsu levels that he would have been able to see you easily even without."

Now Renji was getting worried. For all that this guy was Ichigo's uncle, he was putting out the kind of vibe Renji normally only got from Byakuya when he was on the warpath, that banked, impending explosion, imminent end of the world feeling. He resisted the urge to shuffle backwards.

"Yet this one you helped, despite the fact that you _killed_ my nephew and nieces for the exact same crime." Ryūken looked up and Renji froze under his arctic gaze that was full of everything Renji had sensed and more. "Abarai-san, I know that you were only following orders. I also understand that you have made your peace with Ichigo on this matter. I will even concede that I owe you my son's life, however," he paused and Renji found himself holding his breath, "if you ever - _ever_ \- do anything to hurt Ichigo again, I will make whatever these people," he tapped the folder with his finger, "did to you, seem like a walk in the park. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Renji snapped a bow so quickly that he nearly head-butted the table. "I promise, if it's within my power to prevent it, Ichigo will never get hurt again." He would do it too because, unlike Zangetsu's 'hurt him and I'll disembowel you' speech, Renji actually believed this one. 

"Good." Ryūken picked up his cup, the air of imminent murder fading from around him. "Then we'll say no more about it." Renji sagged with relief and reached for his tea. "Let's talk about my nephew's ridiculous plan instead." Renji's hand dropped back in his lap as he resigned himself to listening for a bit longer. "He probably thought he was being clever, giving the details to Uryū and then sneaking off the way he did, however Hachigen-san seems to think your idea will work." 

Ryūken put his cup down again. Was he ever actually going to drink his tea? "In fact it already is working. That's why I came to find you."

"Working, sir?" Renji asked politely, giving his own tea a surreptitious glance. It smelt really good.

"Yes, and rather well at that. According to Yuzu-chan, about half an hour ago your third suddenly gained an influx of reiryoku belonging to both yourself and Ichigo. Apparently it was mixed together and arrived in quite a… rush. Now," the cup went up again. Ryūken's gaze seemed riveted to it and his cheeks turned slightly pink, "I do not want to know what you and my nephew might have been doing to cause such an event, but whatever it was, it seems to be the trick to helping Byakuya-san, so you should probably do it again."

Renji felt his ears heating up. As a rule, he didn't blush much, but he was pretty sure he knew exactly what had caused that sudden inrush of reiryoku, and he was also pretty sure that Ryūken knew too, and being told to basically go away and make out with Ichigo by Ichigo's uncle was enough to make even Renji's normally ironclad sense of embarrassment buckle. 

"Yes, sir," he said weakly.

The cup went back down and Ryūken sighed. "Not sir. Ojisan will suffice. Or Ishida if you're going to insist on formality. Though I see no reason why you should. After all, you are the closest thing to an in-law I'm likely to acquire via Ichigo."

In-law, as in family? That any relative of Ichigo's would see him that way had honestly never occurred to Renji. It had never been an issue with Byakuya; the Kuchiki would rather suicide en masse than acknowledge a gaki as one of their own; so hearing this now from Ryūken was a bit of a mind-bender. He was gaping, he knew, like he had been over the Yhwach thing, and honestly this whole family was ridiculous. When were they going to stop turning his life upside down?

Realising he was staring at Ryūken like an idiot, Renji shut his mouth, then opened it again and managed to blurt, "I'd be honoured, sir. Ishida-ojisan, sir," before his brain gave up completely.

Ryūken gave him a level look back, took an actual sip from his tea and said, "It's customary to return the favour."

"Oh, you'd totally be a part of my family too, sir, if I had one," Renji assured him, dipping his chin respectfully.

"That wasn't what I-" Ryūken began sharply, only to visibly restrain himself with a hand over his eyes before trying again, though apparently to himself more than Renji since it came out as a muttered, "Ichigo really did not choose this one for his brains," which Renji thought was a bit unfair until Ryūken continued more loudly, "Abarai-san, it's customary to offer a less formal version of your own name when such an offer is extended to you."

"Oh!" And didn't Renji feel stupid now. "Renji, sir, Ishida-ojisan, sir. Just Renji, it's what everyone calls me, and anyway Abarai-"

"Father, are you up here. Did you find him?"

At the sound of Uryū in the hallway, Renji made a grab for the folder. Ryūken stood and moved between him and the door giving him time to shove it into his shihakushō. He'd take it outside and burn the contents before he went back to sitting jinzen. That way no one could ever get their hands on the photographs again.

"Ah, Renji-san there you are." Uryū was peering around his father, who only moved aside when he saw Renji had the folder tucked away. "Hachigen-san and I were discussing possible alternatives if this plan doesn't work out, and it occurred to us that if we wanted to attempt to sever the remaining thrall bond strings, knowing more about the arrancar who did it the first time might be helpful." 

"The arrancar?" Renji asked, his mind elsewhere.

Uryū nodded. "Even some apparently useless detail might shed some light on exactly how the process was achieved."

Still in a bit of a whirl from his conversations with Ryūken and his breakdown earlier, Renji tried to think back. Much of that night was seared into his memory. The smell of the burning building as they fled. The cold bite of the winter air amongst the trees. The way the blood on Byakuya's face had stained the cloth over his damaged eyes, and the sound of his screams as the arrancar used the shield on him. "If you ignored the mask, she looked like a young woman, I guess. Pretty, orangey-brown hair." Big boobs, but he couldn't say that. "You should ask Tatsuki. She knew her from before, when she was still alive. They were friends." Or maybe more. "Mizuiro and Keigo knew her as well, so did Chizuru." 

As he spoke, Uryū seemed to go still. Ryūken too stopped moving, except for a hand which he raised towards his son's shoulder. Uryū ducked away from it, coming further into the room, his face set. "Did Tatsuki give you a name?"

Renji shook his head. She had and so had Mizuiro and the others, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was. "I'm sorry-" he began. 

"Inoue. Inoue Orihime, was that her name?"

"Yes!" The weaver princess, how had he managed to forget that. More details came back with it. "Mizuiro said she died about four years ago of a supposed heart attack." And looking at Uryū's face, he wasn't over it yet. That made this next part hard. "But it wasn't that at all. Tatsuki saw what happened. It was a hollow-"

Renji cut himself off midstream, suddenly aware of Ryūken's eyes on him and where this story was going. But he'd stopped too late. Uryū turned on his father. "You knew, didn't you! You knew she'd been taken by a hollow and you didn't say anything. Was this why I was suddenly banned from Ichigo's house? Was she there? Did everyone else know but me?!"

Damn, the boy was hurting. Renji could see the pain on his face, hear it in his voice. He must have loved her a lot to still feel this way after so long.

"And what would you have done if you'd known," Ryūken asked him, his voice absolutely devoid of feeling. "Taken your bow and ended her suffering and thus condemned her soul to an eternity of nothingness? Or maybe tried to help her and been hollowfied yourself. Yes, Uryū, I did know about Inoue-chan and I chose not to tell you, because it was bad enough that she had to suffer without you suffering along with her."

Uryū stared at his father in horrified silence for a long moment and then ran, slamming the kitchen door behind him. The reaction was so like Ichigo's towards Byakuya that for a second Renji was back to those few difficult weeks they'd had before everything in their lives went to hell. 

Ryūken stared after his son for a long moment and then his chin dropped and he sighed. "He'll come round eventually," he said and made his way back towards the table. "I don't suppose he'll ever really forgive me, but then that's what parents are for, doing things their children will never forgive them for, so they don't have to do them themselves."

It was a form of protection Renji could understand. He gave Ryūken a grim look. "I was gonna head outside, do a bit of trash disposal. Do you want me to have a word with him while I'm there?"

"He's as stubborn as I am and so he probably won't listen, but thank you for offering anyway," Ryūken replied, sitting back down heavily. He picked up his cup. "Now come, sit. Drink the tea I made for you before it goes completely cold."


	30. Polaroid Heroes: Integral

Ossan didn't join them in the pool. Ichigo suspected it was something to do with the gooey hangover from Uryū's Vollstan-thing and so he didn't make a fuss when the Quincy spirit retreated quietly to a nearby ledge. He wouldn't have had a chance to say much anyway because the moment Renji left, Zangetsu dive-bombed into the pool and started swimming lengths, which meant Ichigo had no choice but to strip off and dive in after him before he disturbed Byakuya. 

He was busy trying to drown the irritating shit into submission when he realised that Zabimaru had left the pool, apparently fascinated by Ossan. 

At first glance it looked like they weren't interested at all. The baboon was playing with the water close to the edge of the pool with its back to the ledge where Ossan was lying. Only the snake's behaviour gave them away. It was curled tight against the baboon's back, gaze riveted on Ossan, its tongue flickering out every now and again to taste the air. 

Under the water, Zangetsu tried to bite Ichigo's hand. Keeping it firmly over the hollow's mouth to make sure he didn't yell and ruin everything, Ichigo hauled him up and turned him so they could both watch together. Once he spotted what was happening, Zangetsu went still, so Ichigo let him go. 

"What're they doing?" Zangetsu hissed after a second or two.

"The same thing Renji was earlier, I think," Ichigo whispered in reply. Only, instead of stalking straight up to Ossan and trying to poke him like Renji had, Zabimaru was being much more careful. Then again, Renji said he was the tanuki bit of the nue and they were renowned for being almost suicidally curious.

The baboon/snake's behaviour reminded Ichigo of animals on the nature shows Chad sometimes made him watch, especially when the baboon climbed nonchalantly to its feet and began following an invisible line of edibles on the ground that just so happened to lead in Ossan's general direction. In complete contrast to the baboon, snake-tail stayed low and coiled, swaying over the baboon's back. 

In a striking position, Ichigo realised. 

He tensed as the pair drew closer to Ossan. He didn't think Zabimaru would attack, but if it happened, he wouldn't just sit back, especially if Ossan wasn't awake to defend himself. In his arms, Zangetsu tensed too, but they needn't have worried. When Zabimaru got close enough, Ossan sat up. The baboon immediately sat down, the snake straightening up to peer over the baboon's shoulder. 

For a long moment, all three stared at each other and then Ossan leaned down and held out a hand, palm up. Snake-tail zipped forward, tongue flickering, almost too fast for Ichigo to see, but there were no fangs, no strike. Just a touch of tongue to skin. A taste. Like a dog sniffing a stranger. Another second passed, and then the baboon shuffled closer and, painfully slowly, reached out its own hand.

Ossan took it gently and there was another pause while they gazed deeply into each other's eyes, then both of them dipped their heads and the baboon climbed slowly up onto the rock until they were sitting together, almost cuddling, snake-tail draped over Ossan's lap like a well-cooked noodle.

"What the fucking hell?" whispered Zangetsu, and Ichigo couldn't have put it better himself. It was almost as if they knew each other. But how couldn't Renji's zanpakutō _know_ Ossan?

A low whimper from the far side of the pool alerted Ichigo to Zabimaru's reiatsu levels falling. Letting Zangetsu go with a warning to 'just go soak', he headed towards Byakuya, letting his own reiatsu levels rise to compensate. He'd quieted by the time Ichigo got there and was back to playing with the water. Which had traces of blood in it.

"What's happened to you?" Ichigo asked, keeping a reasonable distance even as he gave Byakuya a once over. At the sound of his voice, Byakuya's head jerked up and Ichigo found himself on the receiving end of a ravenous gaze. But not quite such a mindlessly ravenous one, Ichigo didn't think. 

The water seemed bloodiest around Byakuya's wrists, which were shackled in front of him now rather than by his head. Moving slowly just in case Byakuya freaked, Ichigo reached out and took a hold of one clawed hand. Despite the warmth of the onsen's water, his skin felt cool to the touch, like a fish - but not a corpse, because if he started thinking that he was never going to be able to touch Byakuya again.

Byakuya twitched when Ichigo touched him, but made no move beyond that. Ichigo turned the hand over and when he did, it was easy to see where the blood was coming from. The skin on Byakuya's forearm around the shackles was chaffed like they were too tight. Ichigo glanced towards the ledge where Zabimaru still sat beside Ossan, and said in his head, _Ossan, can you speak to Zabimaru?_ He could have yelled across the pool, he supposed, but this way he wasn't addressing Zabimaru directly and since Zabimaru had yet to do more than acknowledge him, this seemed politer.

 _Of course,_ came the answer as if there was an 'of course' about any of this.

Ichigo bit back a snarky comment and restricted himself to, _Can you find out if they can change the shape of the rock around Byakuya if Renji's not here?_

There was silence for a long moment and then a splash behind Ichigo told him he had company. Byakuya noticed too, his whole body going stiff and his flat black gaze shifting from Ichigo to whoever was behind him. Presumably Zabimaru.

"I don't think you should come any closer," Ichigo said, risking a glance back. It was Zabimaru, about ten feet away and looking quite happy to stay exactly where they were. Well, not happy precisely. The snake was zigzagging back and forth, and the baboon was giving Byakuya a very wary look.

"It's okay, he's still secure," Ichigo continued, "but the shackles are cutting into his wrists. I wondered if you could loosen them."

"Not possible-" the snake hissed.

"We are nue together," added the baboon. "Not apart."

That's what Ichigo had thought. He'd never tried changing his inner world, but thinking about how much effort it had taken for Ossan to hold back Tsukishima's BFF mist, it couldn't be easy to do it deliberately even on such a small scale. Even harder when half of you wasn't around. He needed to find another solution to the problem with Byakuya's wrists.

Or not bother at all. The chaffing wasn't severe and Renji would be back soon, except it didn't feel fair to walk away and leave Byakuya bleeding. When Ichigo's hands had been bad, Byakuya had come through for him. Actually, some of that cream would be useful around now.

Eventually he settled for simply sitting with Byakuya and holding his hands still, which gave Ichigo the opportunity to talk to him, which he seemed to enjoy, but came with the dubious addition of having to observe him more closely. Byakuya was, to put it bluntly, hideous, which wasn't a word Ichigo ever imagined himself using in regards to his lover. But more than the looks, which were disturbing enough, were his actions. With Ichigo's reiatsu at this level, he was almost continuously moving, flexing and turning, mouth opening and closing round the rock gag, which could not be comfortable against his pointed teeth. 

Ichigo tried raising his reiatsu a little. That quietened him down, and also made his eyes glaze over and his hands start working, kneading, his claws prickling against Ichigo's skin. At lower levels he woke up again, his small whimpering sounds adding to the overall picture of abject misery.

"We were definitely right about reiatsu being the trick of it," Ichigo said to him conversationally after he'd adjusted his reiatsu to get maximum function and minimum distress. 

Though, how did that even work? It made sense that most of the reiatsu Byakuya was consuming had to be produced from Ichigo's own resources rather from the reiryoku he was stealing, otherwise there'd be no way for Byakuya to end up with more than he gave. And Ichigo's own levels varied by how much he'd eaten and rested recently. So, if the amount of reiatsu Ichigo produced varied, did the amount he took from Byakuya also vary and did it depend on what he was doing? 

If that was true, it'd explain why Byakuya had suddenly gotten so bad. Ichigo must have been drawing hard on their bond the past few days, what with his fight against Zaraki and everything Kurotsuchi had done afterwards. Then there was the fight with Ayasegawa last night. 

Ichigo tucked his chin, rubbing his thumbs across bulbous knuckles. "I wish I'd known," he said. "I'd definitely have found a way of making it through that didn't hurt you."

As he spoke, a faint noise attracted his attention. He glanced up. Byakuya was staring at him, mouth working around the gag, and the noises were coming from him. Quiet grunts and coos. Mimicry or the urge to eat Ichigo whole? That was the trouble with monsters, you could never be quite sure.

A loud yell and a splash somewhere nearby reminded Ichigo of another monster. One he'd been positive was about to eat him, and yet had turned out only to be trying to protect him from Ossan. Mostly, anyway. The point was, you couldn't always be sure, and you sure as shit couldn't take outward appearances as indicators of how dangerous something was. Look at Aizen. The guy was a looker, along with being a murderous devious asshole. 

Same with Urahara, though the more Ichigo got to know him, the less attractive he looked. It was the attitude, Ichigo decided. When you wanted to punch someone that badly, it was kind of hard to notice what they looked like-

Arms suddenly closed round Ichigo's naked waist from behind. He jumped and let out a loud enough yell that, startled by the sudden noise and movement, Byakuya started wailing again. Furious, Ichigo turned in the circle of Renji's arms and clonked the grinning fool upside the head. "Idiot! I had him nicely settled and now you've gone and woken him-"

Hearing what was coming out of his mouth, Ichigo snapped it shut and stared at Renji in horror, who stared back wide-eyed for a moment before saying, "Tell me you weren't channelling your inner baby-sitter while talking about the guy who used to fuck us."

"No. Yes. Kinda." Ichigo huffed and waved a hand in Byakuya's direction. "Look at him! What else am I gonna channel? He's hardly Mr. Sexy right now."

"True." Renji sighed and buried his face in Ichigo's shoulder. "Your uncle is scary."

Ichigo embraced the change in subject with relief. "Terrifying when he wants to be. He's actually a big softy on the inside, but don't tell him I told you that." He felt Renji's answering smile against his neck. "What did he do?"

Renji mumbled something that Ichigo couldn't quite make out, so Ichigo poked him in the ribs until he disentangled himself enough to say, "He said that if I ever let you get hurt again he'll do terrible things to me." Though the way he wasn't meeting Ichigo's eyes said there was more to it than that.

"Let me?" Ichigo shot back with an amused snort, "As if you could stop me getting hurt."

"See, this is what I told him," Renji complained. "I said, Ishida-san, if you think I can stop your nephew from running headfirst into trouble, then you're an idiot. Well, I didn't actually say idiot, but words to that effect. I said, honestly, my best hope is that he doesn't drag me into trouble with him."

Urgh, the 12th again. Ichigo cringed, but before he could apologise, Renji continued, "And strangely enough your sister agreed. Apparently, you've got a bit of a reputation as the family hot-head. Can't imagine where that came from." 

The huff of laughter that escaped Ichigo was absolutely genuine. He grabbed Renji and hauled him in for a kiss. A gloriously slippery, naked kiss, which might have quickly developed into more if it wasn't for the sad noises Byakuya was still making.

Physically extricating himself from Renji's octopus hug, Ichigo pressed an arm across a broad tattooed chest, ignored the hands groping his ass, and said, "The rock's rubbing Byakuya's skin raw, you need to loosen the shackles."

Renji released him with a sigh, suddenly serious. "Yeah, actually we need to change the way he's restrained, full stop. I had a word with that Hachigen guy-" Renji broke off mid-sentence and glared down at Ichigo, "Hey, how come you trust him so much, anyway?"

"Hachi?" Ichigo asked. "He saved Chad, and a shitload of other people. I know he works for Iba-neesan, but he's good people." Renji didn't look convinced, so Ichigo tagged on an, "Honestly," for good measure then said, "So, what did Hachi say?"

"Oh, right. He reckons, if our plan works, Byakuya might start regaining his proper shape again."

Ichigo glanced in Byakuya's direction and frowned. "Could that be happening already? I mean, I'm guessing you checked how tight the shackles were before you left him in them."

"Of course I did!" Renji protested. "What d'ya take me for, stupid?"

"Hey, if the hat fits," Ichigo retorted and elbowed Renji in the ribs as he tried to grab. "Quit it. What else did Hachi say?"

"Erm…" Was Renji blushing? Ichigo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen that. "What did he say? Come on, spill."

"It wasn't him. It was your uncle."

"I knew there was something else," Ichigo crowed, "You are so obvious. What was it?"

Red spread from Renji's ears across the tops of his cheeks. "He said we have to make out because when we did before, Byakuya got a bunch of reiryoku back."

" _Ryūken_ said _that_ to _you_!" Ichigo gaped. "Ryūken. My uncle Ryūken?"

"White hair, blue eyes, scary as shit. I'm sure that's your uncle."

Ichigo waved away the description. "I'm just amazed he managed to get that out in any way that was vaguely coherent. His explanations normally suck, especially for a doctor." He smirked, recalling, "When I was a kid, he tried to give me the whole birds and bees talk, and I have no idea why but dad let him. By the time he finished, I was convinced girls had bunches of flowers between their legs and that when I hit puberty bees were gonna start nesting in my dick. I remember being desperate to get a hive for my birthday so they could live there instead and I definitely asked dad if the sticky honey in the kitchen had come out of his willie. Which probably wouldn't have been so bad if Tatsuki's mom hadn't been there at the time." Ichigo shook his head. "Dad said it took weeks before he could look her in the eye again."

Renji, who'd begun snickering on word one, now turned an alarming shade of red, made an odd choking noise and flopped over Ichigo's shoulder. Ichigo magnanimously decided that he was probably only laughing, not choking, and heaved him off into the water. He surfaced, spluttering, a moment later and lay on his back, attempting to float and laugh at the same time. Ichigo did the only sensible thing and ignored him.

Looking around, Byakuya wasn't their only audience. Zabimaru and Zangetsu were over the far side of the pool, watching like a trio of kids in front of their favourite TV show. When he saw Ichigo looking, Zangetsu smirked and gave him a little wave. Bastard. It was time for some payback.

Ossan, who was still up on the ledge, was watching too, so Ichigo said, "Ossan, can you tell the others that Renji and I are about to fuck, so unless they want a ringside seat, they'd better get going." He didn't have to say any more. Zangetsu and Zabimaru had already hot-footed it out of the pool and were scrambling up the rocks behind, Ossan joining them at top speed, though his hurry was far more dignified. "You could go back to our place," Ichigo called after them as they disappeared over the boulders. "I'll let you know when we're done!"

"I don't think we actually have to have sex," Renji said from behind him. "I mean, we didn't before, we were just making out and that seemed to be enough."

Ichigo turned to boggle at him. "You're turning down sex? Where's Renji and what have you done with him?"

"What? No, it's not like that!" Renji protested immediately, though there was something in his voice, some hesitation, that set off Ichigo's alarm bells. First the flashback earlier and now this. What had been going on with Renji while he was away? 

"We don't have to if you don't want to," Ichigo said, trying not to sound sulky even though he had kind of been looking forward to it. It'd been ages since he'd gotten laid, not since the last time he'd come through to the living world, and that hadn't exactly been a marathon session. And okay, so he'd been busy, what with politics and fighting for his life and stuff, but still. He was eighteen. He _liked_ having sex. Especially with the people he loved.

"I can give you a blow-job," Renji offered, his gaze everywhere but on Ichigo. "Hachi said it was the mingling of reiatsu that was important and after earlier-"

Ichigo put a hand over Renji's mouth. There was something fundamentally wrong about Renji offering a blow-job with an expression like that on his face. "If the only thing that's important is the reiatsu, then we'll just make out," he said. "It worked earlier, it'll work again. Renji, I'd never make you do something you're uncomfortable with."

"It's not you, it's him," Renji said, and pointed at Byakuya.

Ichigo had been so prepared for Renji to argue, 'it's not you, it's me,' that it took him a couple of seconds to parse what he'd actually said. When he did, he turned to look at Byakuya, who was staring at them with that flat black gaze and okay, yeah, Ichigo got how that could put a man off his stroke. The hunger in those eyes was just familiar enough to be creepy. He shrugged. "If we've got to move him anyway, how about we stick him somewhere he can't see us? Like over the other side of the statue." 

"I… guess," Renji said, still looking hesitant. 

At this rate he wasn't even gonna get kissed. Ichigo scowled. "Let's do that anyway. Now you've brought it up, I don't want him watching us making out. It's not fair when he can't join in." 

Both of them raised their reiatsu to shikai levels, which send Byakuya right on over into ecstasy mode. That seemed to calm Renji down no end so, while he set about creating a new set of restraints, Ichigo worked on getting Byakuya out of the current ones. 

It wasn't as simple as just lifting him. The rock, which turned brittle once Renji stopped reinforcing it, had to be peeled away like a plaster cast and removing it left pinkish bruises on Byakuya's skin that matched the old scars on his shoulder, chest and back from where Ichimaru had tried to kill him after the massacre. The last time Ichigo had seen them, they'd been livid purple starbursts, but now they'd faded and shrunk to divots no deeper than the tip of a finger. Only the one on his swollen belly still looked bad. That had blackened and spread, stretched so tight it looked like it might pop open at any moment. 

Ichigo shuddered as he slid an arm around Byakuya's chest to tow him across the pool. Despite the evidence of the scars, Byakuya's skin was still uncomfortably cool to the touch, a visceral reminder of how far they still had to go, and part of Ichigo knew he should be feeling something about all of this. And he was. Probably. There was something there anyway, bubbling just under the surface waiting for an opportunity to escape. But if it did, there'd be no stopping it, Ichigo knew. Like he also knew that repressing indefinitely wasn't healthy either. 

After mom died, Isshin had tried to jolly Ichigo out of his night terrors and depression. He'd failed and eventually Ichigo had started seeing a counsellor at Karakura hospital. In retrospect Ichigo suspected that had been Ryūken's idea; it seemed more his speed than dad's. 

Asano-sensei had been a strange prickly guy with a tendency to stare off into the distance while he spoke, but he'd helped Ichigo a lot and right now those lessons were nagging at him. Don't bottle up your emotions. Face your fears, and talk them out. 

Unfortunately the only person available to talk to right now was Renji, and they didn't do talk. They did tease and wrestle and compete, which was brilliant in so many ways, but the man Ichigo really needed was the one in his arms. The one that was still part monster, but who they were going to fix even if it killed them!

Ichigo clenched his jaw on everything he was feeling and shoved it all right back down. He didn't have time for it right now. He couldn't. He had things to do. One lover to heal, another to comfort because fuck knew there was something going on with Renji and it was going to spill out sooner or later. So, for now, he just needed to keep on keeping on. Deal and don't feel. How hard could it be anyway.

"You done?" he asked as he rounded the corner of the little island to where Renji was busy making his preparations.

"I reckon," Renji said, stepping back and looking over in his and Byakuya's direction. His gaze flicked briefly over Byakuya before determinedly fixing on Ichigo. "It'll do the job, yeah?" 

At the foot of the tanuki statue there was now a huge stone lantern, basically a basalt box on legs with a fancy roof. The inside was big enough for one person, so long as they weren't too chunky, and stone bars covered the sides and back. It didn't take much in the way of imagination to envision the same bars across the front once Byakuya was inside. Safe and secure. Ichigo liked it. 

"It'll be great," he replied, hefting Byakuya up over his shoulder and stepping up out of the water. 

Apparently that wasn't the right way to carry him because Renji huffed a sigh and held out his arms. "Give him here," he said.

Ichigo obliged and between them they slid Byakuya into the small stone prison. They had to scrunch him up some but the stone inside was thick with moss so he'd be comfortable enough, Ichigo reckoned. He stirred as they moved him, reaching and clinging at both of them. Ichigo gently untangled claws from his shihakushō and tucked Byakuya's constantly flexing hands against his own chest. They dug through the thin cloth of the yukata immediately, scoring dark lines in ghost pale skin beneath. Ichigo frowned.

"Here," Renji said, prodding him from behind. "Use these."

Ichigo glanced back to find a bundle of shirts being held out to him. "You sure?" he asked, shooting a quick look up at Renji to check it really was okay, given the issues he seemed to be having at the moment about being nude.

"I am," Renji replied, his jaw firm and eyes set as he shoved the clothing into Ichigo's hands.

Ichigo shrugged, took the bundle and eased it into place above Byakuya's swollen belly. He settled immediately, claws kneading the cloth and head lowering, his breath snuffling like he could smell Renji on the shirts.

"I should have done this earlier," Renji said as the last two sets of stone bars grew from the top and bottom of the box and met in the middle without even a seam. "It would've been better than those shackles again."

"I dunno," Ichigo said, standing up and considering Byakuya; comfortable, yeah, but perched high and dry above the water line. "I think he kind of liked being in the water with everyone else."

A sad kind of smile twisted Renji's mouth. Hating that look on him, Ichigo grabbed his hand and tugged him close. "Hey," he said. "You did the best you could. And now we're gonna do the best we can together. No one can ask any more of us than that, right?"

Renji's expression eased some. "When did you get so wise?" he grumbled.

Ichigo shrugged. "When I stopped hanging out with the dumb monkey?"

The wrestling match plunged them off the ledge back into the water. Ichigo came up for air, laughing so hard he could hardly grab a breath, with Renji's fingers digging into his ribs and refusing to quit. They went back down again a moment later, Ichigo latching on to Renji's chest like a limpet and using his extra weight to carry them deep below the surface, and that's when he went in for his kiss. Renji opened for him like a dream, arms wrapping around him and holding him close. Their legs tangled as they drifted, fingers finding hair and sensitive necks, bodies sliding and fitting and sliding again. It seemed to go on for hours, and surely they ought to be going up for air by now but for some reason it didn't seem to matter. It was like they didn't need to breathe anyway. 

Even Byakuya's absence didn't seem strange. He was still there, attendant in spirit if not body, like he so often was when Ichigo and Renji 'put on a show'. 

Silence surrounded them, a strange muted world, and when Ichigo opened his eyes, he could see nothing but bubbles. Black and red bubbles, flooding up through the water, back towards the light far above them. 

'For Byakuya', Ichigo thought, closing his eyes again and getting back to the kiss. 'Our gift to him'.

They fetched up on the bottom of the pool, Ichigo landing astride Renji, laughing into his mouth as Renji's eyes opened and he realised where they were. They couldn't talk, but didn't really need to. The way Renji's hand came up and cupped Ichigo's face, the way he smiled, the way he came up to meet him when Ichigo dipped to press their lips together yet again. All of that and more told Ichigo that Renji was exactly where he wanted to be.

He shivered when Renji's hand closed around his cock. He was already half hard, coaxed that way from the slippery slide of their bodies as they moved through the water. Now the feeling intensified and he shifted into the kiss, pressing his hips forward to encourage a little more action. Renji obliged, his thumb swiping over the tip of Ichigo's cock, making him gasp on nothing and clutch at Renji's shoulders. Lips traced his ear, then a tongue and Ichigo was suddenly gripped by the uncontrollable shakes. He clung to Renji, humping against him, fucking his hand. He was going come, soon and hard, he could feel it, but it was too quick, he'd wanted this to be slow, both of them together. But he couldn't help it. It'd been too long and this was Renji.

An arm closed around his back, holding him close, and Renji's hand on his dick tightened, urging him on. Ichigo clung, rutting, breath that wasn't breath loud in his ears, wanting, needing something more to just push him over the edge. It came in the form of teeth on his neck. Not hard enough to hurt, but scraping against the tendons and yes, that did it. His climax surged through him, toes to tongue, exultant and strong like a cry from his heart. His dick throbbed in Renji's hand as he spilled into the water and he felt Renji's reiatsu surge as his arousal spiked too. Not an orgasm, but desire.

Feeling much more relaxed, Ichigo let himself be rolled onto his back and tried not to twitch as Renji ran fingers from neck to sternum to navel and then back up to circle first one nipple then the other. When he ducked his head and followed fingers with lips, tongue and teeth, Ichigo gave up trying not to twitch and went starfish instead, letting his limbs hang wide and move as they would in the water and under Renji's guidance.

He wasn't exactly surprised, given the rock solid boner that had been poking him in the leg for the last few minutes, when Renji folded him up and moved his attentions a lot lower down. Ichigo let his head drop back and enjoyed it, the great thing about inner worlds being that, like breathing, hygiene just wasn't an issue. There was nothing, Ichigo decided as his cock began to fill again, like getting rimmed to set every nerve in your body on fire. Even his toe nails were starting to feel turned on. Not a bad feat considering he couldn't even feel them most of the time.

Long careful fingers opened him up, probing deep as Renji's tongue kept working. Ichigo relaxed, letting it happen, reaching down to stroke his fingers through Renji's short hair to let him know not to stop, never to stop. His hand paused at his own cock on the way back up, squeezing, encouraging, just a tug to keep it company and then up again to circle a nipple, echoing where Renji's tongue had been early.

A sucking kiss on his inner thigh heralded part two. Ichigo grabbed his own legs and held himself open as Renji knelt, lining himself up, one hand gripping Ichigo's ankle. He slid in with barely any resistance. Ichigo arched in welcome, his hands sliding up to grasp Renji's arms. No one fucked him quite like Renji, so deep, so steady. His fingers tightened as Renji ground into him, finding all the right places to press against until Ichigo was seeing stars, the tip of his cock throbbing as it desperately tried to play catch up. Around them, reiatsu bubbles coruscated up through the water. Ichigo felt like he was travelling with them, like his entire being was shimmering. It was beautiful down here, and warm and glorious and, no matter what else happened, they were so doing this again. Inner world sex was the best.

That stayed true right up to when Renji tried to pick up his pace and the good hard fuck Ichigo had been hoping for ran aground on too much water resistance. Renji tried again, but it was no good. Grinding was great, anything faster just wasn't happening.

Ichigo grimaced, catching Renji's hand with his own, shook his head and pointed upwards. On the surface, this wouldn't be an issue. They could use the edge of the pool, it'd be great. But Renji was shaking his head too. Pulling out, he carefully lowered Ichigo's legs and then took his hand. 

Ichigo had thought they were already at the bottom of the pool. It turned out he was wrong. Renji headed even further down, following the rocky floor as it dropped off a cliff into utter darkness. It was difficult keeping track of which way was down, exactly how Renji was finding his way, Ichigo had no clue. Perhaps nue demons were part dolphin too. He just hung onto Renji's hand and let himself be led. 

Eventually, Renji seemed to change direction and suddenly they were surfacing. Gasping and shaking water from his hair, Ichigo staggered up a dark sandy beach and looked around. They were in a cave. How big, Ichigo couldn't say since the walls were lost somewhere in the distance, though the echoes of random splashes and shushing sounds of water made it feel vast. The only light came from a single shaft of daylight that sliced through the darkness from a crack in the roof high above. Presumably that was where the fresh air was coming from too since the cave didn't smell damp at all. 

Ichigo squinted up at it. "Are we under the ledge where the statue is?" he asked.

"I have no idea," Renji replied. "I didn't even know this place existed till I started looking for it."

"The room of requirement, adult edition," Ichigo said with a chuckle, turning around. His laughter died on suddenly dry lips. Renji was sprawled in the shadows like some kind of weretiger, the dark lines of his new tattoos working like camouflage to break up his outline against the sand and rocks. But his eyes gleamed a deep red-gold, and he was staring at Ichigo with the kind of hunger that made Ichigo's belly contract and his dick stir. 

"Um," Ichigo said, coherently.

Renji's lips curled, showing his teeth, and that really wasn't helping. Nor did the tongue that flashed out like it could taste him from all the way over there.

"Do I got to come and get ya?" Renji asked - no, purred - shifting his position just enough to give the illusion that he was about to pounce, and Ichigo was starting to seriously wonder about himself. Was it normal to have a fuck or fight response, because any minute now he was going to pass out, either from the adrenaline overload or from all the blood rushing to his dick.

"Last chance. If I gotta chase, I ain't gonna be gentle."

Who wanted gentle anyway. Ichigo braced himself just in time to catch Renji as he leapt. They tumbled, wrestling, onto the sand, which was way softer than it should have been and didn't cling either. Great sand for getting laid in, Ichigo decided, sinking his teeth into shoulder meat as Renji's full weight bore down on him. 

"Ow, fuck," Renji snarled and retaliated with teeth in Ichigo's neck. A gasp escaped Ichigo's mouth and he couldn't stop the full body shudder that went along with it, nor the way his legs fell open giving Renji as much access as he could possibly want. Renji chortled and the bite turned into a sucking kiss that was definitely going to mark. 

Uncaring, Ichigo pressed up into it, arching his back. Renji's hands slid beneath him, lifting him higher and then sliding down to cup his ass. He groaned as fingers brushed against his hole, just a tease before moving away again to pull and stretch at ass and thighs. It was enough to make him find his voice. Swiping tongue over desert dry lips, he craned his neck until his mouth was next to Renji's ear and growled, "If you don't fuck me, I am gonna flip you over and ride you till-"

Renji's hand smacked down across his mouth and furious crimson eyes glared down at him. "If you _ever_ want to have sex with me again, do _not_ finish that sentence." 

Swallowing hard at the look in Renji's eyes, Ichigo nodded up at him. Renji removed his hand, but the moment was gone. Even Ichigo couldn't find it in himself to protest when Renji rolled off and flopped onto his back in the sand. Ichigo propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at him, worried. This wasn't like Renji. For fuck's sake, he'd put up with all sorts of dubious shit under Byakuya and yet still threw himself enthusiastically into any new kink either of them came up with. He wasn't insatiable so much as eager, and not just in an obliging way. Ichigo knew from fun and Renji enjoyed sex. It was a thing.

But not now. Something had happened while he'd been in the living world and it had created a minefield out of something that, at least between the two of them, had always been fun and uncomplicated. Looking down at Renji with his arm draped across his eyes and his cock now lying flaccid against his thigh, Ichigo wanted to find whoever had done this and rip them to fucking shreds. 

"Can you tell me what it is?" he asked, forcing the irritation from his voice. He didn't want to pry, didn't want to risk hurting Renji more by prying, but on the other hand, without some idea of where all these new triggers were, he might end up hurting him anyway.

Renji peered at him over his arm. He was obviously thinking hard, Ichigo could see it in his eyes, but it took an age before he lowered it to say, "There was a girl - woman - at the bar we were working at who took a shine to me. She got… insistent." Renji's gaze cut away, breaking eye contact before he could say the last word, and whoever this person was Ichigo wanted to kill her for bringing that kind of hesitation into his lover's eyes. He was about to say something, either mad or comforting he wasn't really sure which, when Renji spoke again, his voice harsh and yet quiet. "I think she drugged me. I don't know, I wouldn't have agreed otherwise- It was her and her friends. A whole weekend. I woke up in a hotel room, alone, with no fucking clue what had happened-"

"I'm gonna kill her," Ichigo snarled, halfway to his feet before Renji caught his arm, stopping him from rising. "What?! You don't think she deserves it for doing that! She fucking… " His mouth and his brain stumbled over a concept that shouldn't in a million years be applied to someone he loved, especially not a _man_ he loved, but there wasn't any other word that fit, so it had to be that. "She raped you, Renji!"

"No, wait, hang on," Renji protested. "I never tried to fight her off-"

"How do you know, if you were drugged!" Ichigo demanded. "Not that it matters. If she drugged you-"

"Cause they took pictures, okay? Photos, that show me having a great time, so it couldn't have been rape. It was just… a bit of fun that got out of hand and- Ichigo?"

"They took pictures?" That explained everything. How Renji had flashed back when Ichigo had mentioned his scars and tattoos. Why he'd felt so uncomfortable with Byakuya watching them, even when he wasn't in a state to really see them at all. It wasn't Byakuya, it was anyone, which is how come he hadn't wanted to go back to the surface and had made this place for them instead. Private, dark, enclosed, where no one could see them making love except themselves.

"Yeah, a whole load, and left them for me with a note. Ichigo, you okay?"

Lost for words, Ichigo cupped Renji's face, kissed him gently, then pushed on his shoulder, encouraging him back onto the sand. Renji went, frowning only slightly, and Ichigo straddled him, there was too much of him to reach otherwise, but he kept it slow, kept it careful, he just needed to touch, needed to see, wanted to reclaim, maybe, what Renji had had stolen from him, though it wasn't Ichigo's place to do any of that. But still, something moved him to try. He spread his hands against Renji's chest and pressed upward, running palms over strong pectorals and corded neck. Fingers took in the delicate curl of ears, nails a gentle cover of scalp, and lips for Renji's eyes, nose, mouth and chin. Then back down to powerful shoulders and bulging biceps. Forearms strung with muscle, and calloused familiar hands. Those he brought to his lips one at a time, dropping kisses onto knuckles and fingertips that had been buried inside him not so long ago. 

Renji watched it all with a bemused expression, but didn't seem bothered, which was good because now he'd started Ichigo wasn't sure he could stop. It wasn't sexual. In fact it was probably about as far from sexual as Ichigo had ever been while naked with Renji, because he didn't want to take possession of Renji's body, he wanted to give it back to him. He wanted to strip away the unwanted eyes and restore that brave self-confidence and pride that Renji used to have in his physicality. Bad enough he'd been damaged into hiding by the whip and the scars. To have this invisible wound as well, that Renji couldn't even seem to see for himself was an insult too far.

Sliding back, Ichigo moved on to hips and thighs, deliberately avoiding that long cock that stood at half-mast, like it was as undecided by what Ichigo was doing as Renji was. Palms moved across skin, from rough haired to smooth inner, and down to knees that parted when he stroked between them and feet that kicked and twitched and made Renji grunt when he touched his lips to toes and instep. 

Halfway done, he slid clear entirely and gazed at Renji up the length of his body, letting the other side be his decision. Renji stared back with narrowed eyes for a second as though trying to read his mind, and then nodded and rolled onto his front, his head cradled on his arms.

Ichigo started at the bottom this time, up heels and over tendons, across roundly muscled calves. The backs of Renji's knees were always a no-go zone, so Ichigo skirted around them, aiming a kiss for the point where thigh met ass instead. Renji huffed a laugh but his fists tightened so Ichigo immediately backed off, returning to using only his hands. Which were perfect for the job when it came to the globes of Renji's ass. Thumbs dug deep but didn't pry, content instead to drive upward into the small of Renji's back. And all the way up, from heels to shoulders, the scars were barely visible, hidden beneath ink or faded to pale pink where the skin was clear. 

He risked a kiss between prominent shoulder-blades and smiled as they dropped into relaxation, then he was up to neck and scalp and Renji, Renji, Renji. 

"You're lying on me," Renji whispered as Ichigo snuggled closer. 

His voice might have been quiet but it still resonated against Ichigo's chest like a low purr. "Hmhm," Ichigo agreed.

"Is that part of the thing you're doing, the lying on me?"

"Nope, it's an you're comfortable thing," Ichigo replied, tangling his arms through Renji's and blowing a small stream of air over his ear. Renji twitched but seemed content to lie there with Ichigo on his back. The closeness felt good. Ichigo hadn't realised how much he'd missed this side of having someone around. He'd had to be so careful not to get too physical with Chad, since being touched sometimes made him freeze up, and no wonder considering what he'd been through - and crap, why did he have to go and remind himself about that.

Ichigo groaned and buried his face in Renji's neck. "I hate people," he muttered. "Human people and shinigami people. They're all as shitty as each other."

Beneath him Renji's shoulders shrugged. "People are people, alive or dead."

"Maybe we should just stay here, just the two of- Fuck, Byakuya!" Ichigo sat up, sliding off Renji's back and reached out with his reiatsu. They'd been putting out quite a bit during their time together, had it been enough?

Far above him was a small unsteady glow. Not enough yet, he didn't think. Not enough to be sure anyway. He grimaced and slumped back down to lean against Renji's side.

Renji smirked at him over his shoulder. "I thought we weren't doing that yet," he said.

"Doing what?" 

"Fucking Byakuya." With a wide yawn, Renji stretched and rolled over, dumping Ichigo onto the sand. "Going by your grumpy face, I'm guessing he's not fixed yet."

"I don't think so," Ichigo replied, which meant they were going to have find another way of doing it since he couldn't force Renji to have sex with him just to fix Byakuya. Shuffling closer again, he rested his head back on Renji's chest. "Any bright ideas?"

Renji's fingers plucked gently at Ichigo's hair. "We could carry on doing what we were doing before."

Ichigo craned his neck so he could see Renji's face. He didn't look pressured. "You sure?"

Renji glared at him. "Quit coddling me, I'm not some fragile flower." 

"I'm not coddling. Nor am I pitying, worrying, or fussing," Ichigo shot back. "I'm just making sure that you feel up to it." Which did indeed make it sound like he was fussing. Best to nip that right in the bud. "I mean, I've already suffered from blue balls once today. I just don't want to risk you getting cold feet again." 

"Cold feet, eh?" Renji curled round him. "I'll show you cold feet," which made absolutely no sense considering he then grabbed Ichigo by the waist and hauled him up so he was straddling Renji's head. 

Ichigo braced his hands on Renji's thighs and looked down at the treat poking up at him. His mouth watered. "You really sure you wanna-" he began, and then yelped as Renji swallowed him down. That was about as good a yes as it was possible to get. Moving one hand to the ground, Ichigo held Renji steady with the other and swooped down, swiping a lick across the end of Renji's dick. The sudden rush of air around his own made him smirk and he went in for the metaphorical kill. He knew this game. It was like chicken, only with a different sort of cock, and was all about who was gonna give in first.

Renji had the advantage. With their relative heights and how he had Ichigo positioned, he could do anything from deep throating to the kind of finger fucking that made Ichigo squirm and beg for mercy. But Ichigo wasn't without his own weapons. Sure, he couldn't get much more than half of Renji's dick in his mouth, but he had his hands. And Renji would do anything for his hands, Ichigo knew. He'd pleaded for them often enough.

At the first slide of calloused palms up the shaft, Renji's grip tightened around Ichigo's thighs and he made a choking sound that had nothing to do with the cock in his mouth. Ichigo smirked. Damn, Renji was so easy. He dipped his head, going in for another tongue swipe and almost head-butted Renji's dick instead when Renji's palm spread across his lower back and two fingers slid deep inside him, crooked just so. For the longest moment, all Ichigo could do was press his forehead to Renji's hip and see stars, riding out the sensations of being fucked and sucked at the same time, until the odd vibration of the muscles beneath his face finally got through to the slightly less melted part of his brain. 

Fucker was laughing at him! Oh, that meant war. Ichigo shuddered and, fighting the urge to thrust, reassembled himself piece by trembling piece using sheer bloody-mindedness for glue. He would not lose to Renji, not in this, nor in anything else. He had the control, and if he didn't, he'd damned well find it somewhere and apply it till it worked. 

It paid off eventually, his breath steadying, the shudders reducing to occasional full body shivers when Renji caught him just right - like… Oh fuck, just like that. No. He had to focus. Had to concentrate. 

Using thighs and core muscles for balance, Ichigo brought both shaking hands into play, working wrists and fingers to get the stroke just tight and right enough to make Renji buck, yanking his mouth off Ichigo to pant and curse into the soft skin of inner thigh, and sure it was fucking heartbreaking to lose that perfect suction around his dick, but to reduce Renji to a squirming sobbing mess was totally worth it.

But Renji would only stay down for so long. Soon he was surging back with cheats of his own, his palms spreading Ichigo wide, fingers deep while thumbs pressed against taint sending throbbing strands of arousal from Ichigo's balls to the tip of his dick. Ichigo retaliated with a roll, squeeze and tug of Renji's balls that made his knees bend and his ass come up off the sand, just perfect for Ichigo to suck him down, and keep him there with one hand under his ass, fingers starting to probe and press.

"Fuck, fuck," Renji panted, his hips a mess of short abortive jabs into Ichigo's mouth as he stroked and worked at the rest of the shaft. "You win. I'm gonna- Ichigo, please. I'm gonna- Please, let me. Please-"

He wanted to fuck, and Ichigo wasn't about to deny him. Pulling off, he turned around and sank down onto Renji's cock. Renji grabbed him by both hips and rolled them, pressing Ichigo down into the sand and thrusting deep. Ichigo choked out a grunt and arched, knees digging hard into Renji's sides, arms reaching above his head. Renji's hips worked, the power of him sending Ichigo frantic, fucking back against the hard length inside him, breath coming in heaving gasps, muscles trembling. Around them, reiatsu whirled, whipped into a frenzy by the passion between them, a red and black tornado of power as all of him, all of Renji, raced upward towards the crack in the cave roof, up towards Byakuya. 

A hand gripped him, stroking from root to tip and Ichigo cried out, eyes closing as the pleasure he'd been fighting for what felt like hours finally caught up and swept him away. He came hard, spattering onto his belly, feeling Renji's desperate thrusts carry him over the edge too, his voice rising in gasps that echoed around the cave returning as an inarticulate cry that seemed to find its own answer in Ichigo's heart.

It took forever to subside. Breath harsh in his chest and throat, Ichigo reached for Renji, guiding him down as he slipped out and practically nose-dived onto Ichigo's chest.

"You okay?" Ichigo panted, his fingers tracing Renji's face, the wet on his cheeks and the curve of closed eyes. 

Renji nodded but didn't open them, just brought his own hand up to capture Ichigo's and press hard kisses to his knuckles. Okay, but dealing with something then. Ichigo could live with that. He gave Renji's hand a firm squeeze and cast his attention upward. Above them, hidden by the cave roof, sat a steadily pulsing ball of reiryoku. Whether it was inside Byakuya or just sitting there, Ichigo had no clue. At some point they'd have to go up there and check but for now he was content to stay exactly where he was, snuggled up with Renji.

*

It was like being born. Or how he imagined being born must have felt could he remember it. Evicted from suffocating darkness onto a hard surface, besieged by bright light and noise. Yet surrounded by love. Bathed in it. A soothing balm that filled spaces inside him that had ached with emptiness for so long he could hardly imagine them ever being full again. Now love flooded them, rushing through his veins, causing his heart to beat and filling his lungs with each painful stuttering breath. 'Live,' it whispered. 'Grow, heal'. 'Become whole once again.'

Slowly, the love gained a name - RenjiIchigo - that wrapped around him with power and warmth and safety. He lay within it, allowing it to fill him, allowing it to find him until there was enough of him for a memory to come crawling back. A memory of hunger so intense it stripped away all semblance of sanity. Of sight become narrowed toward nothing but power, and he remembered… "Renji?" 

Byakuya's eyes flew open as he scrabbled to get upright, only to hit against bars of stone. "Renji!" Blood washed through his mind. Viscera and crimson dripping claws.

Memories or dreams?

"Renji!"

Please let them be dreams, otherwise-

"Renji!"

Otherwise-

Power swelled until the stone around him shattered with a ear-splitting crack. He fell, cast from his prison onto hard unforgiving rock, hardly rational as he hunkered there on hands and knees, eyes darting from water to mountains to sky to meadow, searching desperately for some clue, some sign that he had not… he could not…

Below him, two familiar reiatsu signatures suddenly flared. Relief coursed through Byakuya's veins and he folded, face pressed to rock as he sobbed. Alive. Renji was alive. His visions had been only dreams. Terrible, vivid, lingering, yes, but only dreams. 

_Leave. You are not welcome here._

The words landed directly in Byakuya's brain snapping him back to reality like a sharp slap to the face. He spun, landing on his backside, and for the second time in his life stared up at the dark-clad, bandaged figure looming over him. Zangetsu, Ichigo's zanpakutō spirit. Did that mean this mountain onsen was Ichigo's inner world? 

But how could that be when the last time Byakuya was here, there had been nothing but sideways buildings and driving rain. To change so much would mean-

A flicker of movement behind Zangetsu drew Byakuya's eye. Two pale figures emerged from behind the rocks, both unfamiliar though he knew their power intimately. And the pain he had caused them and their wielders. 

Yet and still, when his eyes fell on them, a single word burned itself across his mind. Mine! And a hint of the same hunger he'd felt before stretched through him. 

He wrenched his thoughts away from it. No. These zanpakutō spirits were not his. Senbonzakura was his. His spirit, his armour, his other half, if he could just find-

Memory, of glass against his palms, of hands desperately reaching, of the fleetest of touches, crashed back over him. Senbonzakura! He had to leave now, find a way back to his own inner world, to Senbonzakura. Perhaps then he would be safe. Perhaps then the dreams would stay only dreams.

 _The path lies above you._

Byakuya looked up. Above his head hung a lantern, glowing black, red and white. Renji and Ichigo's colours. Was the white supposed to be him? He hardly dared hope and knew that he didn't deserve- 

_Use it and go._

With a wrenching twist of realities, Byakuya obeyed.


	31. Living on a Thin Line (and No Looking Back)

'CRACK!'

Renji and Ichigo both shot upright, the sound of splitting stone above them unmistakable. "How good were those bars?" Ichigo demanded, gazing upwards warily.

"Good enough," Renji answered, pausing to sweep tongue across lips before adding, "Least, I thought they were."

If it hadn't worked, this could be bad. Worse, if it had worked and Byakuya was still after a zanpakutō…

They exchanged looks, finding their own concerns mirrored in each other's faces, and scrambled, Ichigo sticking to Renji's heels as he navigated the underwater entrance to the cave and struck out for shore. They breached the surface together, shaking water from their hair and faces, to find Ossan, Zangetsu and Zabimaru all gathered on the ledge by the shattered remains of Byakuya's prison. Of the man himself there was no sign.

"Where is he?" Ichigo demanded, hauling himself out of the water.

_Passed through the lantern,_ Ossan replied, pointing upwards.

Ichigo looked. The lantern dangling from the end of the tanuki's staff was lit by a steady pulsing glow of black, red and white reiatsu. "Was that there before," he wondered, glancing back at Renji, whose expression was bleak.

"No," Renji said, striding past him towards their clothes half-hidden beneath a pile of rubble. He yanked them free, shook off stone chips and started slinging items at Ichigo. "Get dressed. We need to go after him."

Renji was right. If there was any chance that Byakuya was still monstrous, or worse, hurt, they needed to find him. 

Dragging dusty hakama up damp legs, Ichigo had a thought. He paused, frowning up at the Quincy spirit. "Oi, Ossan, how did he look?" 

_Alive,_ came the reply, which wasn't exactly helpful.

"Thanks," Ichigo shot back, "But I meant was he still doing the hungry ghost thing." Before Ossan had a chance to answer though, Renji had stepped up, reached for the lamp and vanished. Cursing, Ichigo shoved his arms into his shitagi sleeves and followed.

He wasn't exactly surprised to fetch up in Byakuya's stripy tent. Still cursing Renji out for being a hot-headed idiot, Ichigo yanked the curtain door aside, stormed through it and slammed straight into Renji's back. 

"Ow," he grumbled, rubbing his nose, and peered past the immovable man-mountain. Standing about thirty feet out into the battlefield was Byakuya. Still dressed in the same ragged yukata and stick-skinny with hair that needed a good wash and brush, but he was definitely the real Byakuya, not the monster version. 

With a relieved grin, Ichigo pushed past Renji, calling, "Hey, look at you, all fixed. How're you feeling?" 

Before he could take more than a couple of steps, Renji caught his arm. "Don't," he said. "Look at his eyes, his nails."

Renji must have better eyesight than Ichigo because he couldn't see anything wrong. Yanking his arm away, he kept going, only to stop again when Byakuya raised both hands like he was about to cast a kidō, crying, "Stay back! I-I'm not safe. I might hurt you." 

And yeah, Renji was right. There were still dark claws at the ends of those fingers and the whites of Byakuya's eyes were pure black, but there was familiar volcanic grey there too and the emotion on his face was pure human fear.

"See what I mean," Renji said, coming up to join him.

"But the rest of him's fine," Ichigo argued. "Plus he's scared of hurting us, which is the exact opposite of how he was before." Which had been more Terminator with overtones of Ring.

"It could be a trick, to get us to go closer. Look," - Renji scowled - "I dunno about you, but I'm not feeling any different towards him, so I don't see how the string thing can be attached again."

"Eh?" Ichigo said, confused. "What've the thrall bond strings got to do with the way we feel?"

"Well, it stands to reason, don't it," Renji said, gaze slipping past Ichigo's shoulder. "All that loyalty and respect and love and stuff's got to be a part of it, otherwise where's it all gone."

It took Ichigo a few seconds to get his head around that. "Are you saying that Byakuya can't be fixed because you feel differently about him than you used to?"

"Well, yeah." Renji's gaze snapped back, narrowing. "You mean, you don't?"

Did he? Ichigo turned to look at the haggard man in the ragged yukata desperately trying to stop either him or Renji getting any closer so they didn't get hurt, while his bare feet bruised against the bones scattered across his own personal internal battlefield and said, "No. He's always been an asshole, but his heart's in the right place."

Renji seemed lost for words for a second, then his jaw tightened. "Well, he never had you as long, so maybe it never took you the same way."

That was a possibility. Plus, Ichigo had never harboured any illusions about Byakuya, which Renji, the stupid great romantic that he was, did. And with all the shit he'd been through recently, it wasn't exactly a surprise that he was second-guessing his emotions. 

Then there was always the off-chance possibility he was right about their fix not having taken. 

"Okay, how about this," Ichigo suggested. "You stay in here and keep an eye on him while I'll go and see if it worked. If it has, I'll get them to release the kidō, Byakuya'll wake up and when he's gone, you can follow him out."

That earned him a thoughtful look and then a brusque nod. "Fine. But if it's gone wrong, get your ass back here straight away so we can thrash out plan B."

Which would probably involve sealing Byakuya so he never woke up again. With a resigned nod, Ichigo closed his eyes. "Just don't kill him while I'm gone, okay. Remember none of this is his fault."

Renji's sceptical snort followed Ichigo out into the real world, where he surfaced to a heavy weight across his chest and something tangled around legs. For a second he couldn't work out what it was, until he realised Renji was on the futon with him and someone had chucked a blanket over them. A good idea, considering what they'd been up to, Ichigo thought, blushing. His pants didn't feel damp, but if any of their activities had carried over to this side, that could have been really embarrassing. 

After wrestling Renji back over to his own side of the futon, he tossed the blanket back over him, opened the door to the lab and stuck his head inside. There was no sign of anyone in the outer room, though going by the shadows visible through the half glass of the inner door, there were several people in there.

He was halfway across the room when the inner door flew opened and Uryū hurried out. When he saw Ichigo, he pulled up short, gave him an odd look and said, "I was just coming to wake you."

Ichigo's heart immediately ticked up a beat. "Why? What's gone wrong?" If something had, he needed to get back to Renji, pronto.

"Absolutely nothing," Uryū replied flatly. "Yuzu says it's worked. Congratulations, you have your second boyfriend back. "

Ichigo couldn't have stopped the whoop that escaped if he'd tried. He'd been right! 

Heart now racing for an entirely different reason, he pushed past Uryū and into the operating room. Yuzu was sitting cross-legged on a chair just inside the door and when Ichigo came in, she dropped her legs and beamed up at him. "Look nii-chan, Byakuya-sama is fixed. Your mad plan worked!"

"Of course it did," Ichigo said defensively, sidling in beside her, his eyes glued to the table in the middle of the room. But for all his looking, he couldn't make out what she was so excited about. Byakuya seemed no different; still wrapped in kidō bandage and far too skinny. 

"Whatever you were doing filled him up really quickly," Yuzu continued, her voice bright and breezy.

Ichigo sent a panicked look at Chad for reassurance that she didn't know the gory details. He was perched on a workbench over the far side of the room, behind a grey-haired woman on a high stool, who Ichigo vaguely remembered from back at the workshop. Since her hands were clamped into a kidō form and her eyes didn't stray from Byakuya for even a moment, Ichigo presumed she had to be Isane-san, the person who was tag-teaming with Hachi to keep Byakuya contained. 

Chad shook his head, which Ichigo took to mean that Yuzu didn't know all the details. That was good. It had been bad enough trying to explain earlier that Byakuya was his boyfriend, not Chad. He still wasn't sure Yuzu had actually grasped that properly.

"Does that mean it's okay to wake him up?" Ichigo asked before Yuzu could say anything else.

"I don't see why not," Yuzu said, frowning at him curiously. "Though you should probably wait for jichan and Hachigen-san. Uryū-chan just went to fetch them."

Isane muttered something too low for Ichigo to hear, though Chad, who'd leaned forward until their heads nearly touched, seemed to catch it. After a second he nodded and sat back up. "Isane-san agrees. Having them here would be a good idea."

Yuzu ducked her head, though Ichigo caught her flushed cheeks and felt a pang of affection for his little sister. It looked like someone enjoyed getting Isane-san's approval. That was good. She needed more friends.

Left at something of a loose end until his uncle arrived, Ichigo ventured closer to the table and checked Byakuya over again. Still nothing significant seemed to have changed. He'd stopped twitching, which was good, Ichigo guessed, but that was all. Could Yuzu be wrong about their plan having worked?

Ichigo reached out, thinking to offer Byakuya some kind of reassurance that this was going to be over really soon, but aborted his attempt when Isane's shoulders tightened. She already looked stressed. It wasn't fair to do anything that would make her job even more difficult. 

Frustrated, Ichigo glanced at the door in the hopes that his uncle was coming, saw nothing, and turned back. And that was when the penny finally dropped as to why Yuzu had been so excited when he first came in. Because Byakuya's body _had_ changed, significantly, since the last time Ichigo had seen him out here in the operating room. Gone was the hungry ghost shape. Beneath those kidō bandages, he was properly human again. And if Ichigo hadn't just seen his human-shaped self in their inner worlds, he would have noticed straight away that he'd changed out here as well. Gods, he was such an idiot sometimes.

Relief of a much more final kind flooded through him, though it was tempered with a niggling worry. If Byakuya was back to his normal shape again, did that mean the rest of him was too? Or would he have the same grey on black eyes and claws out here as he did in their inner worlds? Not that it really mattered, so long as he was okay in himself.

"Were there any problems as he changed back?" he asked, glancing at Yuzu.

Yuzu shook her head. "One moment big belly, the next all skinny." She levelled a disapproving look at him. "If he's really your boyfriend, nii-chan, you need to make sure he eats more."

"If it was up to you, bossy-boots, all of us would be the same size as Hachi," Ichigo teased back.

"I see nothing wrong with that," a voice said from just outside the door. 

Argh, timing. It was Hachi, of course. Ichigo turned, cheeks heating. "I didn't mean-" he began.

Hachi's large pink moustache twitched. "I like to think I'm the perfect size for someone like myself," he continued, his eyes crinkling deeply with amusement. "Though I can see how it might prove challenging for you little ones to achieve such magnificent proportions."

Knowing when he been soundly beaten, Ichigo staged a valiant retreat to behind Yuzu's chair and did his best to stay out of the way as Isane handed over to Hachi and rose from her stool with a groan. She was very tall, he realised, as she stretched the kinks out of her back. Easily taller than him and not far off Renji's height. 

She also had a mechanical arm like Hachi's. And no way could that be a coincidence.

Ichigo was about to ask where they'd both got them from, because that clockwork still reminded him of something he'd seen somewhere before, when Ryūken appeared. He looked tired and, given the way Uryū took several pointed steps away from him as soon as they entered, they'd probably had another fight. Or not patched up their previous one. 

Isane greeted him politely, then the pair of them, with occasional interjections from Hachi, fell into a quiet intense discussion about what should happen next. Since he was pretty useless when it came to the technicalities, Ichigo did the only thing he could and grabbed Chad to help him go fetch Renji from the other room on the grounds that he'd probably prefer to wake up next to where all the action was. 

By the time they'd hauled him through into the operating room and settled him against the wall by Yuzu's chair, the discussion had moved on to which should take priority, Byakuya's health or everyone else's safety, when the kidō was released. Ichigo wasn't invited to share his opinion, which seemed unfair considering Byakuya was his boyfriend, but eventually they reached some kind of consensus. 

"Ichigo, I want you with me," Ryūken said, lifting the sides of the table and turning it into a kind of cot. "The rest of you, outside, please. Yes, even you, Yuzu-chan. You can come back in after we know it's safe, but for now, the fewer people that are in here, the better."

They all filed out, none of them looking happy. Especially Isane, who took up station just the other side of the door, peering in through the glass. Ryūken turned his back on her and went over to one of the cupboards. "Hachigen-san is going to release the kidō," he said, pulling out spare bedding which he tossed to Ichigo, "so pad the sides of the bed with these."

Why that was necessary, Ichigo had no idea, but he did as he was told, working carefully so as not to get in Hachi's way, though the big man seemed way more relaxed in his kidō working than Isane had been. 

A stack of cardboard bowls and several packs of gauze landed on the bench next to him as Ryūken continued, "When the kidō lifts, Byakuya is likely to surface very quickly. I will tend to his physical needs, but he may well be distressed and disoriented so I need you to be there for him mentally."

He was making it sound like Byakuya was coming out of a coma. "I think you're worrying too much," Ichigo said, finishing up with the last blanket and taking a step back. "I mean, he was fine before." He jabbed at his own chest with a finger. "You know, in there." 

"That may well be," Ryūken replied waspishly. He separated one bowl from the stack and placed it beside Byakuya's head. "However I do not want any accidents, and both Hachigen-san and Isane-san say there is likely to be some level of mental distress. So, if you wouldn't mind…" He pointed at a spot next to him.

Ichigo went, trying to quell sudden nerves. He might have been thinking about a medical degree before he died, but he'd never done anything like this. Maybe if dad had actually become a doctor, he would have, but he'd become a mortician instead and there wasn't much call for them to handle living people. The closest Ichigo had ever come to doing anything medical was donating reiatsu to Yamada when Renji was injured.

As soon as Ichigo was in place, Ryūken picked up the bowl and said, "Hachigen-san, whenever you're ready."

Ichigo felt the kidō go down. A heartbeat later, Byakuya's reiatsu flared so high that it even made Ichigo light-headed for a second, and the kidō bandage disintegrated. Which was lucky since the next thing Byakuya did was roll over and puke his guts up. Bloody bile by the look and smell of it, which couldn't be good, though Ryūken didn't seem bothered. Ichigo tried not to gag and focused on Byakuya instead.

He looked just as terrible out here as he had in his inner world. Skeletally thin, grey-skinned, lank-haired. Only zombie-lite, because he lacked the rotting flesh and moaning for brains. And he still had the grey-on-black eyes and claws, which were going to make life interesting in the future.

"Re-Re-" he kept saying between retches and it didn't take an expert to know what he was wanting. 

"Renji's fine, he'll be out in a mo," Ichigo told him, trying to keep lank hair out of the puke and support some of Byakuya's weight at the same time. Ryūken was doing an admirable job of holding the bowl and Ichigo was about to make a snide comment about hard-working doctors when Byakuya's eyes rolled back in his head and he started seizing.

"Don't try and hold him," Ryūken snapped, when Ichigo's first instinct was to pin Byakuya down. It felt wrong to let go, but Ichigo knew better than argue with his uncle, even when it did mean having to watch helplessly as Ryūken eased Byakuya over onto his side, though at least the reasoning behind lining the cot-sides finally became clear as jerking limbs and head knocked against blanket padding.

"What's happening," Renji asked a moment later, hauling himself to his feet in the corner. "Is he having a fit?"

"You don't have to sound so damned happy about it," Ichigo snarled, earning him raised eyebrows from both Ryūken and Renji. Then the seizure was over and it was back to the puking again and murmuring quiet words of reassurance that yes, Renji was here and yes, he was fine, and no, Byakuya hadn't killed him, eaten him, or any of the other horrific things he seemed to believe he might have done. 

At some point, Ryūken set up a drip, presumably one designed for shinigami. That seemed to help, until it didn't. After that, more blood was involved and there might have piss as well, but by then Isane had joined them to help with healing, which meant that wasn't Ichigo's problem any more, so he ignored it.

The whole cycle must have repeated at least ten times, and through it all, Renji kept his distance until needed as proof of life. The expression of utter relief on Byakuya's face every time Renji stepped forward was breaking Ichigo's heart and by the time it was finally over and Byakuya slipped into something that both Ryūken and Isane said was real sleep, he was about ready to bash Renji over the head.

"I don't get what your problem is," he said, stalking ahead of Renji up to the apartment. Byakuya was still downstairs, but they'd been given their marching orders by Ryūken and for once Ichigo didn't fight them. His head felt jammed with the stench of puke and blood and there wasn't a part of him that wasn't sweaty and disgusting. If this was what being a doctor was like, he'd changed his mind about being one, big time. Right now all he wanted a bath. "It's not Byakuya's fault this happened, yet you're treating him like some kind of criminal."

Renji didn't answer until they reached the bathroom door. "You're mixing up him not doing it deliberately with it not being his fault," he said, slumping against the door jamb. 

Halfway into the bathroom and with the tantalising scent of steaming hot water in his nose, Ichigo paused and looked back. "What?"

Renji shrugged. "We know he probably didn't do it on purpose, but he still did it. If he hadn't been trying to swear us to him, then this wouldn't have happened."

"Oh come on!" Ichigo cried. "I've sworn loads of bodyguards since I was made clan-head. You trying to say I've done something similar with all of them? With Chad?"

"No," Renji answered defensively. "But that weren't the same. Everyone uses that oath and you never took their swords, they put 'em at yer feet. What Byakuya did with us was different and he wanted it to be, or why bother using a different method. And if we're right and he copied that from Kōga, then the only thing he didn't know was that it was illegal and that it'd come back and bite him on the ass, so no, creating a thrall bond weren't deliberate, but it was his fucking fault!"

That was actually fair. Ichigo huffed and leaned against the other side of the door, arms folded. "Okay, say you're right. He's still the one who's paid the price. I mean, look at him for fuck's sake, he looks like a famine victim. But you're the one getting all wound up about it. Can't you give the guy a break? You don't think he's suffered enough?"

Renji's expression twisted, his eyes lowering. "I can't control how I feel," he said. "And right now, I've got no clue what I feel. When we agreed to fix the strings I expected it to all come back, everything I've felt about him all these years, but it hasn't, so all I know is that I don't feel the same as I used to, and that's really doing a number on my head. Sorry."

"Don't apologise." Ichigo reached out, looped an arm round Renji's neck and pulled his head down till their foreheads touched. "Come and scrub my back, then we can grab a bite to eat and head back down. Maybe if you sit and watch him sleep, it'll bring back some good memories."

*

They got back downstairs just in time join Yuzu, Chad and Isane in the basement saying goodbye to Hachi before Chad opened a senkaimon for him.

"I never got a chance to say thank you," Ichigo said, giving the guy a little bow. "Not just for Byakuya, though you know that's really appreciated, but for before too. With Chad."

Hachi's gaze flicked to Chad, who was standing between Isane and Yuzu, his eyes turning sad. "I'm just sorry I wasn't able to do more for Jackie in the end," he said.

The bow Chad made was much deeper, and honestly didn't need words. Damn, Ichigo hadn't meant to bring up bad memories. 

"I don't get this. You've got Iba Tetsuzaemon locked up in the hospital but you're just letting this one walk," Renji said grumpily, apparently still determined to share his new cynicism about life. "What exactly's stopping him from going straight back to Iba-neesan and telling her everything?"

Hachi and Isane exchanged looks, then both of them turned to Chad, who shrugged as if to say it was nothing to do with him. 

"Oh, come on!" Renji complained. "I've got no-one to tell even if it is some kind of secret." He glared at Ichigo. "Do you know?"

Ichigo shook his head. "No idea, but I trust them, and anyway we can't make them tell us if they don't want to, so quit being an ass."

Renji scowled, but subsided against the wall, arms folded. 

A small smile curled the corners of Isane's mouth and her gaze shifted briefly to Ichigo. "You may not look like him, but you remind me a lot of your father." 

"What? Loud obnoxious asshole," and ouch he hadn't realised that his father was still such a sore spot.

Isane's smile vanished at Ichigo's snapped reply. "Considerate of others feelings, though perhaps not consistently," she said, proving she was both a much nicer person than Ichigo and not afraid of back-chatting nobility. Ichigo liked her already.

"Sorry," he said, meaning it. "How come you knew Dad?" He really did need to stop using the past tense all the time. Dad wasn't dead, just in prison.

"I was apprenticed to the chief peripatetic medic when your father was captain of the 3rd," Isane replied. "He called on us quite often, so I got to know him well."

"Isane-san served under Unohana-taichō," Yuzu chimed in.

"As your sister says," Isane concurred, though there was something about her body-language that left Ichigo looking between her and Yuzu. 

"You know, no one ever told me where you guys fit in the picture," Ichigo said, ignoring Renji's growled, "Fucking thank you." "I mean, you arrived with Chad and Karin, so I'm guessing you're not with the Gotei any more."

"They're from Rukongai," Chad said, before Isane or Yuzu could answer.

Ichigo's knee-jerk reaction was that that was impossible, given that souls in Rukongai didn't have the kind of reiatsu levels Isane had. But then he stopped and thought again. Ex-Gotei, living in Rukongai, is chummy with Chad. "You're one of Tōsen's refugees," he said. 

Before Isane could confirm or deny it, Renji said, "Tōsen-fukutaichō has refugees?"

"He's a captain now and yeah, it's a thing. Like Hirako's revolution." Before Renji could ask anything else, Ichigo lifted a hand to get him to shut up for just a second. "I'll tell you more about it later." 

Renji grunted and muttered something under his breath. Ichigo ignored him for the moment, more focused on Isane and this newest revelation. "Did you get that kid, the one from the mine? What was he called?" 

"Shige," Chad put in, just as Isane said, "We did. He's at the hospital right now with the others of us that made it out."

Yuzu flinched at the wording and Ichigo looked between her and Isane. There was that odd tension again. "Made it out?" he asked hesitantly. Was Isane's group the one Yuzu had accidentally exposed to Soifon?

Isane's gaze flicked to Yuzu, then her face set into determined neutrality. "Our location was leaked to the 2nd. We were forced to flee in a great hurry, not an easy thing to do in the dead of winter. Some of our weakest succumbed on the journey. If it hadn't been for Yasutora and Karin, many more of us would have died."

Okay, there was a huge story to tell, but going by Isane's expression, now wasn't the time to press for details. And anyway, Ichigo was more interested in the leak. "You think Yuzu gave you away?" he said, because if that was what was going on, maybe he could help.

"I didn't mean to, nii-chan-" Yuzu began, desperation edging her voice.

"I know," Ichigo interrupted, though he didn't shift his eyes from Isane's. "But I'm not sure Isane-san does."

"She swears this shinigami made her do it," Isane said with a huff that finally revealed the irritation she'd been hiding. "A man from the 4th-"

"Tsukishima," Ichigo said. "And she's right. Actually," - he turned to Hachi - "You need to know about this too. Tsukishima Shūkurō from the 4th - hang on, no, he's lieutenant at the 13th now - Do not trust him. His shikai screws with your head."

"But the negators," Isane insisted.

"Forget negators," Ichigo said with a derisive laugh. "They don't work, or at least the one I know doesn't." Isane blanched at that, but didn't say anything so Ichigo carried on. "Tsukishima's slipping right under the radar. He stabs you with his sword and that's it, you belong to him. He's everywhere inside your head. He hijacks all your memories until everything good that's ever happened to you is because of him. He's the best friend you ever had, the best friend you're ever gonna have. He's more important than family, friends, even yourself. If he told you to jump off a cliff, you'd do it without asking why."

"It sounds like you have personal experience, Shiba-dono," Hachi said.

"I do," Ichigo told him. "The bastard got me when I was locked in the Senzaikyū-"

"When the hell were you locked in there!" Renji demanded.

Before he fought Zaraki in the arena and ended up under Kurotsuchi's knife at the 12th. Ichigo swallowed thickly. He was so not ready to deal with any of that just yet, not even with Renji. "I said I'd tell you later," he ground out.

It came out harsher than he'd intended. Renji threw him a poisonous glare before stalking out into the stairwell. Ichigo stared after him for a second then turned his attention back to Isane and Hachi. They needed this information, both of them. He'd patch things up with Renji later. 

"It doesn't matter where I was, the important thing is that he stabbed me and that Yuzu was the one who fixed it," he continued.

Isane's gaze flicked to Yuzu again, who ducked her head, turning a bit pink. "How? She has no reiatsu…" Isane's voice faltered and she frowned at Yuzu. "But you do now. How can your reiatsu have gone up so much?" She shot a look at Ichigo. "Is this sudden power shift another part of this shinigami's abilities?"

It was interesting that she didn't seem to know Tsukishima. Either she was thrown out of the 4th a very long time ago or Tsukishima hadn't been there for as long as his many friendships with people made it seem. Ichigo would bet on the latter. The 4th had to be a great place to end up if you wanted maximum access to the maximum number of people in the shortest possible time, because pretty much everyone trusted a medic.

Damn, just how many people in Seireitei had been got?

"No, Yuzu's abilities are because she's a Quincy-"

"Quincy!" Isane shot back several steps, expression horrified, and all Ichigo wanted to do was bang his head against the nearest solid object. 

"Yes, her and me and Karin are all half Quincy. Yes, we have the ability to manipulate reishi. No, we're not going to eat you or try and take over the world. Now, please, can we for five fucking seconds focus on the guy who is an actual threat here!" 

Everyone stared at him like he'd been yelling. Even Renji stuck his head back round the door to smirk, so huh, maybe it had been a little loud. 

Ichigo consciously reeled himself back in. "I just don't want anyone else getting hurt," he said. "And Tsukishima's really really fucking dangerous."

"I think I understand, Shiba-dono," Hachi said, dipping a bow. "I shall spread the word when I return that this man is not to be trusted."

"Thank you," Ichigo said. "Though I don't think he's targeted the Iba yet."

Again Hachi and Isane exchanged looks. This time Isane nodded and Hachi dipped his chin in apparent acquiescence. "Yes, perhaps it is for the best," he said. Raising his eyes to Ichigo, he continued, "I may work for Iba-neesan, Shiba-dono, but my allegiance lies elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" Ichigo echoed. "With who?"

Hachi hummed quietly. "Let us just say that, in my capacity as healer, I am the one who tends the pit fighters when they're injured and has the final say over whether or not they will ever fight again. When the answer is no, Iba-neesan requires that they be sold to the 12th. That is also my task."

"But you don't send them there," Ichigo slipped into the slight pause. Because Hachi really didn't seem the type.

Hachi dipped his chin again. "I do not. There is a place on the edge of the pits where they can be hidden and then smuggled out of Seireitei-"

That was it! "That shop! I knew I'd seen clockwork stuff like your arms before. The Silver… Beetle? No," he searched around for the right insect. "Cricket! Same as the toy in the cage I nearly bought. No wonder the shopkeeper got all squirrelly when I asked about it!"

Despite Ichigo's enthusiasm, Hachi didn't even twitch. That took the wind right out of Ichigo's sails until a sudden sobering thought occurred to him, "Does Tōsen know about this?" Because if he did then that gig was well and truly up.

Hachi shook his head. "He does not. In fact, he knows very few specifics. No one does. It is safer that way."

The classic cell structure for any underground or terrorist organisation. Ichigo remembered reading about in history. Which is why Hachi hadn't reacted when Ichigo had mentioned The Silver Cricket. Ichigo wasn't a need to know. Thank fuck someone in Seireitei had brains. Ichigo huffed out a sigh of relief. "Well, that's good because if Tsukishima's at the 13th then Tōsen's probably his best friend forever by now."

"He is," Yuzu confirmed in a small voice. "I was there when Tsukishima stabbed him. And Soifon-fukutaichō and Yamada-fukutaichō."

Shit, that was the 13th, 4th and 2nd compromised for certain. "Right, that's also good to know." He turned to Hachi. "Now I feel like I'm sending you back to your certain doom."

That large pink moustache twitched. "I'm sure I'll be fine, Shiba-dono. We know how to keep our heads down and, as you say, fly under the radar."

"Just make sure you do," Ichigo said. "You're a useful guy to have around."

"Thank you, Shiba-dono," Hachi said with a bow. "I do try."

And now he was just being teased. The guy had the driest sense of humour ever. Ichigo huffed. "Right, so, you should go."

"Before he does," Renji said, sticking his head back round the door again. "I was hoping Hachigen-san might be able to explain something to me about Byakuya."

Going by that respectful -san, someone had changed their tune about Hachi. 

When the man in question straightened and looked attentive, Renji came the rest of the way around the door and continued, "I know Yuzu says Byakuya's fixed and everything" - Yuzu nodded forcefully. Renji ignored her - "and the soul starvation thing seems to be mostly gone. But what I don't get is why he was after our zanpakutō. And he was, I know he was because one time we were" - Renji's gaze flicked between Yuzu and Isane - "close and I swear he tried to hook Zabimaru right out of me."

"Was this while you were still sealed?" Hachi asked.

Renji frowned. "Yeah, does that make a difference?"

"Perhaps." Hachi looked considering for a long moment before saying, "You probably already know that the source of a soul's reiryoku is the hakusui, the soul sleep." He patted his upper belly. "And that it is boosted in a shinigmai through an active saketsu, chain of binding." His hand moved to his chest.

All of them nodded, even Yuzu, which… okay yeah, she probably learnt all of this at the 4th. 

"What is less commonly known is that the saketsu is the point at which a shinigami is bound to their zanpakutō, and it's the relationship between the two that raises their reiryoku levels. The closer they become, the higher it gets. Thus a shinigami who has achieved bankai generally has much higher levels of reiryoku than those without.

"The seal that was used on you, Abarai-san, pinches off that connection and plugs it back into the hakusui, effectively trapping all of the generated reiryoku on the zanpakutō's side of the equation. However, since it can only express that power through an asauchi and in tandem with a shinigami, both it and the shinigami are rendered helpless under the seal."

"That's how come I was able to break it," Renji said with a gob-smacked expression. "Cause I had the asauchi."

Hachi stopped speaking and stared at him in utter amazement. "You broke it yourself?" he said. "I assumed you had help."

"From who?" Renji retorted. "It's not like we got people queueing up over here."

There was a momentary pause from Hachi then he clasped his hands across his belly and dipped a small bow. "You're right, Abarai-san. I apologise for misjudging you."

"It's okay," Renji said, waving it off. "It's not like I knew what I was doing. It just happened." He frowned. "So, what you're saying is, Byakuya was going for my hakusui 'cause he could sense the reiryoku trapped beneath it, and Zabimaru just happened to be attached to it."

"Quite possibly. It's also possible that he was simply attracted to the zanpakutō because his own is missing, and was unable to control the urge due to the soul starvation." Hachi frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder if his attempts to 'hook out' your zanpakutō also helped loosen the seal from the outside. It might explain how you were able to break it." He hesitated. "Though I'm sure the bulk of the effort was your own."

Renji laughed, a good sound. "I don't mind sharing the credit. Though it was pretty scary at the time."

"And potentially lethal. Had Byakuya-dono succeeded in his attempts and torn the seal away, it would have destroyed both the chain of binding and the soul sleep. I'm afraid you would have suffered a catastrophic and permanent loss of power."

All the humour suddenly drained from Renji's face. "That's senka," he snarled. "Bastard was trying to use senka on me. I'm gonna fucking kill him."

"Hang on," Ichigo said grabbing for Renji as he spun on his heel and stalked off across the basement towards the safe room. "You can't know that!" With a jerk of his shoulder, Renji threw the hand off, so Ichigo grabbed for him again. "Renji! Renji, stop!" 

"Why? So you can make fucking excuses for him again. Didn't you hear what Hachi-san just said, Byakuya tried to kill Zabimaru!"

Sticking himself bodily between Renji and the lab door, Ichigo put both hands on Renji's chest and dug his toes in to try and make Renji stop. "He was out of his fucking mind, Renji! You can't hold someone responsible when they're out of their mind!"

"Sure I can. Just fucking watch me." 

He tried to barge past and Ichigo was so tempted to just punch him, but that would just end up in a fight when what this situation needed was to be de-escalated. Desperately he dredged up anything he could think of that might make Renji listen. "So you blame Uryū for what he did to Rikichi when they were trapped in that box together?"

Renji ignored him and kept coming.

"What about me when I was hollowfied?" That seemed to get through. Renji at least glanced at him. Ichigo kept talking. "I almost killed Chad. Another 10 seconds and I'd have torn him apart. I'd already knocked out wizard-san and smashed up Urahara's leg."

"Bastard had it coming."

Shit, shouldn't have brought up Urahara. The safe room door was getting pretty close. It was time to pull out the big guns and Renji was gonna hate him for this. Letting himself get barged aside, Ichigo waited until Renji's hand was on the door before saying quietly, "What about you? By that logic, it was your fault you fucked all those people when you were drugged."

Renji froze. Ichigo could see him start to shake and crap, that had been a really nasty trick, but he hadn't been able to think of any other way of stopping him. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was way out of line."

"Bastard," Renji bellowed and spun, fist flying. For a second Ichigo thought it was aimed at him, but it was the shelves behind him that Renji hit. And hit. And hit. The wood absorbed some of the blows before starting to crack and split. 

Ichigo left it until he saw blood start to flow and then caught Renji's wrist. It was testament to how ready Renji was to be stopped that all the fight went out of him the second they made contact. He flung himself at the wall and slid down it, head back and knees up, staring at the ceiling, not even trying to hide the tears on his cheeks. After a moment, Ichigo sat beside him, not touching, and just let him be. If he wanted to talk, he'd be there. If not, he'd still there. It was all he could do.

Out in the stairwell, a senkaimon opened and closed again. That would be Hachi leaving. Hopefully he'd be okay. Ichigo probably should have said something to him about Aizen but until they knew the facts, they might end up giving the wrong advice. Maybe when Byakuya woke up properly and they had a chance to really find out what had happened, they could bring Hachi up to speed. Isane would probably know how to get in contact with him, and it'd be easier getting back and forth now they had reliable access through the ansenkaimon at Ginzan. 

Ichigo had been worried about that, but Kūkaku had laughed in his face when he'd mentioned it. The Omaeda had it all in hand, she'd said. The whole ownership thing was so tangled up in bureaucracy that they'd still be arguing it out next century. For now, being nobility, they were good, so long as the Gotei didn't stage an armed assault. And, if it got to that point, then you were talking all out war in Seireitei anyway. 

Beside him, Renji let out a huge sigh and slipped sideways until his head landed in Ichigo's lap. His eyes were closed and he didn't say a word, but Ichigo took it to mean he was forgiven and that the current murderous rampage was over. He reached for Renji's injured hand and quickly checked it over. Bruised and badly scraped up, but nothing was broken.

"Idiot," he murmured, letting the hand go and stroking his fingers through Renji's short hair. Under his touch, Renji relaxed just that little bit more. It probably wouldn't take long for him to drop off to sleep.

And then what. Gaining a new bankai might have faded Renji's physical scars but it'd obviously done nothing for his mental ones. And then there was Byakuya. Who knew what kind of state he was going to be in when he finally woke up.

"Nii-chan?"

Ichigo looked up, startled to find Yuzu standing over them. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed. "Hey, Yuzu. Where're Chad and Isane?"

"Upstairs." Giving Renji an odd look, she sat down on Ichigo's other side and leaned carefully against his arm. "They're talking about what they're going to do now."

More like giving him and Renji some space, Ichigo thought. But still, that was the question, wasn't it. What were they going to do now? 

Up until now, Ichigo hadn't given much thought to the future beyond getting everyone he loved out of Soul Society. And even that hadn't been totally successful. He'd ended up having to leave far too many people behind. Like Kaito and his granny, Shin and Koniwa and the rest of the staff from the estate. Hanatarō. Even Hisagi, though he'd probably be okay with Hirako, so long as he didn't end up getting sent to Aizen to get his arm fixed. 

Though if he did, maybe he could get some inside information. That'd be useful. Knowing if Aizen's plans stretched beyond what he'd done to Byakuya and Renji would make planning his downfall a lot easier. Ichigo could even ask him, so long as their soul-link reached that far.

_Zangestu?_

A disgruntled snort met his inquiry. _Don't ask me, king. Bastard's a complete nutter._

Said the hollow who'd tried to eat Kazeshini as an appetiser. 

Maybe he'd try and make contact with Hisagi later. For now, there was someone much closer to home who'd spent months around that faction. Maybe she knew something. 

Looking down at his sister, Ichigo asked, "I don't suppose you've got any idea what Aizen's long term plans are, do you?" 

Yuzu shook her head. "I don't, sorry. Tsukishima-sensei didn't say anything and I only met Aizen-fukutaichō a couple of times." Or had been under the influence of his shikai when he had been around. 

If they'd been aiming to use Yuzu as a spy, it figured that they would have picked her off early. With how often she met up with Karin and Ichigo himself, she would have been be too much of a risk otherwise. But if she still didn't remember anything after purging Tsukishima from her soul, that meant her ability didn't stretch to clearing Aizen's shikai as well.

That was frustrating. It would've been convenient to have some way of seeing through it. Though if Ichimaru was right, they did have Zangetsu. What Ichigo needed was some way of checking if that was true.

"Nii-chan, if Byakuya-sama's your boyfriend, why do you keep cuddling Renji-san?"

Ichigo's hand froze in Renji's hair and he stared in mute horror at his little sister. On his lap, Renji snorted quietly, shaking with laughter. Traitor. 

"Is he your boyfriend too? Because if he is, that's okay."

"Is Sado down here?" called a voice from over by the door and frankly it could have been Aizen himself and Ichigo would have welcomed him right then and there if it meant changing the subject. It wasn't Aizen though, not unless he'd suddenly morphed into a teenage girl wearing a tatty shihakushō and a scowl.

A split second of paranoia brought a snickering Zangetsu to the fore and the world flashed hollow just long enough for Ichigo to register dimming colours and sudden vibrant smells before returning to normal. Through it all Karin didn't change, so the person in the doorway probably was her. Either that or Ichimaru was wrong. But that way led to madness so Ichigo let it go. For now, he'd choose to believe that what he was seeing was the truth.

"Hey, squirt," he called as Karin wandered over to them. 

"Sado's upstairs with Isane-san," Yuzu added.

Karin acknowledged her, but made no move to leave. She seemed more interested in glaring holes through Renji. Ichigo scowled back at her until she crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. 

The silence had just begun to get awkward when Yuzu said. "Karin-chan, it's okay if nii-chan has two boyfriends, isn't it?"

Karin's expression turned squeamish. "He can do whatever he wants, so long as he does it a long way from me." 

"Yes, but-" Yuzu began.

"No buts," Karin put in. "I don't want to know about buts, and I definitely don't want to think about buts, so just stop talking about buts, okay?" She plopped to the ground, crossed her legs and stuck her elbow on her knee, chin on hand and glared at Renji some more. 

"I just think he ought to tell Byakuya-sama is all," Yuzu said quietly.

Karin groaned and let her chin slide theatrically off her hand. "He already knows. Oh _gods_ , he so already knows. Can we _please_ talk about something else."

Apparently appeased by that, Yuzu made a happy sound and snuggled into Ichigo's side again. Ichigo huffed a sigh of relief, dug his fingers into Renji's scalp until he squirmed, the useless bastard, and took the opportunity to completely change the subject. "How did you guys get through the Kyōraku senkaimon anyway? Ryūken said it was closed by the time they arrived."

Karin sagged even further. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she said before sitting up. "Okay, maybe not. But he did swear us to secrecy."

"Who did?"

"If I told you, if wouldn't be a secret, would it," she shot back. "Though you probably don't count. I think he was more worried about it getting back to Kyōraku-taichō."

Now Ichigo was getting really suspicious. Had Ichimaru helped them somehow? "Who?"

"Ukitake-taichō, duh," Karin said, rolling her eyes. "He caught us himself." She recrossed her legs, grabbing her ankles and leaned forward. "You should have seen it. It was the middle of the night, freezing cold, and we're sneaking up on the estate hoping to slip past the guards, because it was either that or head back towards twelfth west and no one fancied trying that journey again, when all of a sudden, Ukitake-taichō swoops out of the night like a giant owl." 

She waved her arms in the air and Yuzu jumped. Karin chuckled. "Sado and I almost had fit, of course, after the last time, but Ukitake was okay. Better than I've ever known him to be, actually. He said a little birdy told him we were coming…" She paused, obviously thinking about that. "Okay, I said better, not well, but he wasn't dangerous and that was the point. Anyway, he said he'd come to help us get through the gate, and he did."

"How?" Renji asked, opening his eyes and rolling onto his side so he was facing Karin.

Her gaze narrowed. "I knew you weren't asleep," she accused. "Anyway, I don't know. He used some kind of kidō I've never seen before."

"You can do better than that, fifth seat," Renji growled.

Karin's lip curled. "Screw you, _ex_ -fukutaichō." Their glaring match intensified until Karin looked away with a huff. "Fine. There were some kind of blossoms everywhere, Ukitake told us to close our eyes and when we opened them all the guards had gone to sleep. Happy now?" 

"Delirious." Renji tipped his head so he was looking up at Ichigo. "That's hakufuku. None of the guards will remember what happened."

"So it wasn't a trap," Ichigo said with relief. That was the trouble with Seireitei, you had to question everything, especially offers of help.

"Of course it wasn't a trap!" Karin exploded. "You think we'd have gone with him if it was?" Renji just raised his eyebrows at her. She shrank a little in her seat. "Okay, so we probably would have gone with him, but we wouldn't have led them here!"

"Thank goodness for that. I thought for a bit you'd forgotten every lesson Hisana taught you," Renji said.

As they were talking, two more figures appeared in the basement doorway, recognisable by their height as well as their reiatsu. Ichigo waved, which meant the conversation screeched to a halt while everyone looked around to see who it was. 

"Sado! Isane-san!" Karin called as Renji hauled himself to his feet, "Sane people. Come and join us, save me from the idiots."

They both looked amused, though as she reached them, Isane-san did say, "That's no way to speak about your esteemed brother, Karin-chan."

"What, him?" Karin's kick caught Ichigo on the shin. In traditional Kurosaki style, he gasped dramatically and clutched the offended limb. "He doesn't deserve esteem, not when he's being a stupid stupid-head."

"Wow, Karin, being back in the human world really suits you," Ichigo retorted. "It's like you've regressed five years." The scowl he got for his effort was epic. He smirked right on back.

"I think she's entitled to be a little childish, Shiba-sama," Isane said respectfully. "After all, she is still very much a child in Soul Society terms." She paused for a significant moment before adding, "As, of course, are you."

"And we've got a winner," Renji decided. "Congratulations, Isane-san."

She dipped a bow at him, absolutely deadpan. "It was nothing, Abarai-san."

He flinched. "Okay, you can stop now. I'm getting Unohana flashbacks."

Isane's laugh was surprisingly loud, and her smile erased all her worry lines. "It's true, I learned from the master," she said, then continued with another dipped bow, "I'm very pleased to meet you, Abarai-san. I don't think we've ever been properly introduced."

Renji scratched the back of his head. "Eh, probably not. You were mostly doing the kidō thing and before that I was sitting jinzen." He bowed back. "I'm very pleased to meet you as well, Isane-san."

"When you're all finished playing manners, I want to see jii-chan and Uryū before we leave," Karin said, getting up.

"You're not staying here?" Ichigo asked, rolling to his feet too. 

Karin gave him a look of utter disbelief. "No, there's too many annoying relatives." Her gaze slid past Yuzu. "Plus, there's things I can do to help out at the hospital." Whereas here she'd be pretty much useless. Ichigo understood that.

"If you're popping in to see Ryūken and Uryū, you can say hi to Byakuya too if he's awake," he suggested, patting her on the shoulder and glancing at Renji as he spoke. Renji's jaw twitched but that was all.

Karin shuddered delicately. "Gods, I hope not. I've got better things to do than watch you three moon over each other."

Ichigo doubted there'd be much mooning. Silent non-murderous tolerance was probably the best he could hope for. "Well, you'll have to put up with us some time," he said, reaching out to push open the training room door. "Because as soon as Byakuya wakes up properly, we need to have a war council."

A ripple of silent stillness spread out behind him. Ichigo released the door and turned around. Everyone was staring at him. "What?" he demanded. "There's some nasty stuff going down in Seireitei. We can't turn our backs on it just because we got out."

It was Karin who broke the silence. "Finally," she said, pushing past him and throwing the door wide. "That's the first sensible thing you've said all evening. What's the plan?"

Ichigo shrugged and followed her in, ducking to avoid catching his head on the low lintel. "I don't know. Go back, kick everyone's ass, profit? You got any ideas?"

"We need to take the 6th back," Karin said, her jaw tightening. "Make sure everyone's okay."

"Free the fighters in the pits," Chad rumbled just behind them. "And everyone else who's enslaved." Which meant going head to head with Iba-neesan. Gulp.

"Help the people Tsukishima's taken over," Yuzu said, her small hand sliding inside Ichigo's as they headed across the training room towards the lab. "That way they can start to help themselves."

Typical Yuzu, being practical. Ichigo gave her hand a squeeze. "Good point. And with you on board, we can do that." He glanced behind. "Isane-san?"

She looked surprised to be asked, but recovered swiftly. "Make sure all my friends in Rukongai are safe. Arrange for decent accommodation and supplies at the camps. Education too, if possible. Oh, and put an end to the killing fields. It's obscene."

"Great," Ichigo replied with a grin that was starting to feel a bit strained. Put like this, it felt like they'd end up tearing everything down. "We'll add all that to the list. Renji?"

"Finding Senbonzakura's gotta be a priority," Renji said sounding like the words were being dragged out him. "If it's findable, that is. Byakuya's not gonna be functioning without it."

In the throes of opening the lab door, Ichigo clapped Renji on the back by way of encouragement. "See, we're halfway to a plan already."

"That's a list of objectives, not a plan," Karin complained, slipping past him as he held the door open. "You're so useless, Ichi-nii."

"She's got a point," Renji said, smirking as he followed her in.

"What's this about a plan?" Uryū called from inside the room. "If it's one of Kurosaki's, someone kill it. And him, while you're about it."

Ichigo sighed theatrically. "No one appreciates my genius."

"That's because your plans are terrible, nii-chan," Yuzu said with a grin, letting go of his hand and hurrying to catch up with Karin. 

For all they were teasing him, they weren't wrong. Ichigo's plans did suck. Mostly. But now he had Ryūken and Uryū. And Byakuya hopefully, when he woke up, and if those three couldn't come up with some kind of plan for sorting out Seireitei, then there wasn't one to be had.

"We were discussing what we want to happen now we're in a position to start fighting back," Karin was saying as he came into the room behind Chad and Isane. Uryū was on the futon with a blanket over him. It looked like he'd been trying to grab a nap. "I want to secure the 6th," Karin continued, oblivious. "Renji wants to find his boyfriend's zanpakutō." She made a retching sound that ended with a squeak, presumably when Renji got her. 

Ichigo didn't bother to look. There was only one place he wanted to be and that was inside the operating room.

As he strode across the lab, Uryū said with entirely justified bitterness, "If we're talking bucket lists, then the 12th has to go. Preferably razed to the ground and the land strewn with salt afterwards."

The rest of the conversation fell away into an irrelevant buzz as Ichigo pushed open the door. Ryūken, who was perched on a stool with a magnifying glass and an open book on the bench in front of him, glanced up, but only for a second so Ichigo guessed it was okay for him to go in.

The sides on Byakuya's cot were still up but there was proper bedding on it now making it look more like a hospital bed. Byakuya himself seemed to be fast asleep, curled on his side with his hand tucked beneath his cheek.

Ichigo leaned against the top of the bed and gazed down at his lover, searching his face for any signs of the monster returning. He couldn't see any, he didn't think. Byakuya's skin looked less grey too, like maybe the reiatsu strings were starting to do their job properly again. 

It was weird though. He didn't feel any drag on his own reiryoku. Then again, why would he, if every scrap he was losing was being replaced by some of Byakuya's. That was the whole point of the connection if it was working properly. Balance. 

"What d'ya reckon he'd add to the list?" Renji asked, laying a heavy arm across Ichigo's shoulders.

Ichigo glanced at him out the corner of his eye. "Reform of the Gotei, don't you think?"

Renji nodded thoughtfully, then reached out and eased a wayward strand of hair off Byakuya's drawn face. "Only it'd come out all tangled up in a lecture about duty and how we mustn't forget the Gotei's greater purpose."

Again, it was all about balance. There was no point saving individuals if the worlds were destroyed. But this wasn't the time to bring that up. It was better left for the war council.

Ichigo had been half kidding when he'd first mentioned having one of those, but everyone's reactions proved that it was going to have to happen. They needed to keep moving forward.

"What about you," Renji asked. "Everyone else has had a say."

'To save everyone,' was the first thought that crossed Ichigo's mind, but that was too big. Too grandiose. It was a long term aim like reforming the government and the Gotei. They were excellent ideas, but not something to write on a bucket list. He wanted something smaller for that, something more specific, like finding Senbonzakura. 

Being here with Renji, watching Byakuya sleep, took Ichigo back to his early days in Seireitei when he'd sit on the roof of the captain's quarters and tell mom what was happening in his life. He'd made a promise back then, one that had seemed impossible given everything else that was going on. Maybe now was the time to make it a reality.

"I want to break dad out of jail," he said, feeling the rightness of it settle around him. Central 46 had sentenced Isshin to a thousand years for massacring Byakuya's family, but, having seen the way justice was supposedly applied in Seireitei, Ichigo couldn't believe that his dad had got anything like a fair hearing. 

Maybe he had killed those people. Maybe he hadn't. The only way for Ichigo to be certain was to break Isshin out of jail and ask him himself. And if that broke the law too, then so be it. 

All his life up until now, Ichigo had been working to a set of rules. Either human ones when he was alive, or Seireitei's after he died. Now all of those were gone. He wasn't human, but he wasn't part of Seireitei either. It was time to start making up his own rules.

"Isshin?" Renji said. "But he's in Muken, right down under the 1st."

Ichigo raised a brow at him. "So? The Iba were able to get into Shugo, so between us we should be able to come up with a way of getting down that little bit further."

"I… will take…" The words were so quiet that they were almost lost in the general hubbub of conversation from the other room. It was only when Byakuya stirred that Ichigo realised that he'd been the one who'd spoken.

"Byakuya?" he squeaked, leaning over the table-bed and reaching with a hesitant hand that stalled out just before it touched sunken cheek or lank hair. 

Renji was braver. He leaned past Ichigo and gripped Byakuya's shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. "Byakuya, wake up. You need to say that again. We couldn't hear you."

After a second, grey and black eyes blinked wearily open and a pink tongue slid slowly across thin dry lips. It took a moment, Byakuya obviously fumbling for the right words, but eventually he rasped in a voice so rough it was painful on the ears, "I will take you into Muken to free Isshin, because Senbonzakura is also imprisoned there."


	32. Everybody's a [Falling] Star.

Ichigo folded his arms across his chest and scowled at his zanpakutō spirit. "You said you wanted a pool. That is a pool."

Zangetsu glared right on back. "No, it ain't. It's a puddle of fucking chlorine masquerading as an educational facility." A bone white finger pointed at the version of Mashiba Junior High's swimming pool that had turned up in Ichigo's inner world below the Senzaikyū. "I get in that, I'm gonna come out fucking bleached!"

Ichigo bit back a snarky, 'You couldn't get any whiter,' since he did still owe the bastard big time, and opted for a gritted, "Fine, so what do you want me to do about it?"

"Change it. If monkey-boy can then-"

"His name is Renji!" Ichigo snapped. "And I know you know that, because I was there when he told you."

Zangetsu's gaze cut away and, arms folded the same way Ichigo's were, he muttered, "Not me he never."

Hadn't he? Ichigo thought back to the first encounter between Renji and Zangetsu, the one that had been kind of overshadowed by the whole Ossan-is-Yhwach reveal and grimaced. It was possible that Zangetsu was right and that Renji hadn't gotten around to formally introducing himself. And with how possessive zanpakutō were about names, it made sense that Zangetsu felt the slight. "Fine," he said heavily, letting it go. "If I get him to do it properly, will you use his name then?"

Zangetsu squinted at him. "Dunno. You gonna ask him how to make a proper pool?"

If it stopped the incessant whining, Ichigo was willing to do just about anything. Except break into Seireitei and steal his sword back from the 2nd, which was what was really bothering Zangetsu. Being apart from it was starting to take a toll on the zanpakutō spirit and, under the circumstances, a bit of internal redecorating was the least Ichigo could do.

Not that he was going to tell Zangetsu that. Bastard would be unbearable if he thought Ichigo was feeling sorry for him. "I'll think about it," was about as close as Ichigo was prepared to get. 

"You could stick it underground," Zangetsu continued, because crap knew the bastard never could take a hint. "Like that real one is. S'nice that. Make it a bit bigger, add a few sun-beds, maybe a wave machine."

He was on about the healing pool in Urahara's training ground which… actually, that wasn't a bad idea. And if the swimming pool from his old junior high could appear accidentally in his inner world, surely creating a replica of Urahara's one shouldn't be too hard.

"I'll try," Ichigo said as his inner world dropped away and the bedroom shimmered back into view. He was still sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall, and dappled sunlight was still through the curtains opposite, so not that much time passed while he was sitting jinzen. That was good. With any luck nothing bad had happened while he was away, like Byakuya needing to be talked down again from one of his panicked hallucinations that were pretty much the limit to his bouts of consciousness at the moment. 

Ichigo clenched down on ever-present worry, because Byakuya was getting better, albeit slowly, and rolled to his feet. "Renji?" 

"Yuh?" Renji's face, cheeks bulging, poked round the door, followed quickly by the rest of him. He had a taiyaki in one hand and a bowl of tea in the other.

At the sight of him, Ichigo boggled. "You're eating? Again? We only just finished breakfast."

Renji frowned down at the food and swallowed before protesting, "Hey, I'm eating for two here, you know."

"It's a soul bond, Renji, not a pregnancy," Ichigo said, rolling his eyes as he pushed past him into the kitchen. The sides were covered in food, some of which had been dropped off by Ikumi-san this morning since they'd discovered that take-out bought by another person worked just as well as food offerings from a temple. It was the giving bit that counted, according to Arisawa-ojiisan. A freely offered gift being the same wherever it came from.

And Ichigo understood the impetus to try and force as much reiatsu down the soul link as possible. Not that that was the problem. Yuzu said Byakuya's reiryoku levels were fine, it was just the rest that was causing a problem. Fucking yakuza and their drugs.

"Zommari called," Renji said, around the tail of his taiyaki. "He said the others are asking about the war council again." 

Shit. That was the trouble with promises. You made them and people expected you follow through, yesterday. 

Ichigo poked the bag closest to him releasing a gust of fried chicken scented air. Suddenly the onigiri he'd eaten at breakfast lay like stones in his gut. He turned away, nose wrinkling. "You told him Ryūken said a week at least, yeah? There's no point trying to plan anything until we know what the hell we're up against." 

Renji nodded, mouth full, then swallowed hard. "I don't think it's urgent yet. They've still got people healing too."

The refugees. Yet more people Ichigo was responsible for. He took a deep breath and tried to ease the stiffness in his shoulders. This wasn't a weight he had to carry alone. That was the whole point of creating the council. 

Which couldn't start doing anything until Byakuya was properly awake. Argh! 

Dragging his thoughts out of their spiralling path, Ichigo focused on something he could fix. Zangetsu's pool problem.

He propped a hip against the counter and watched Renji going through the bags, wondering how best to broach the subject of inner worlds and how you went about changing them. Just because they had free access to each other's didn't mean Renji was going to be comfortable discussing them. 

Maybe if he kept it nice and general. "You know when you trapped Byakuya in the rocks?" Ichigo tried. "How did you get it to do that?" 

Renji paused in his hunt for more food and looked up. "You mean in my inner world?"

So much for tip-toeing around the subject. He should have known Renji wouldn't be bothered. Relieved smile spreading across his face, Ichigo said, "Yeah, Renji, your inner world rock. Unless you've some other rocks you've been playing with?"

"No rocks." Renji's grin turned wolfish and he slid along the countertop until he was pressed hotly to Ichigo's side. "But if you fancy hard I got something you can play with." 

Pure lust rushed through Ichigo's body, his dick twitching to life with such alacrity that his head spun. They might have shared a futon for the past couple of nights, but Renji hadn't made even a sniff of a move towards him. And no way was Ichigo going to try it on, not after everything Renji had told him about those yakuza shits. Right now though, all he could think of was that the effects of the amazing sex they'd had in their inner worlds really hadn't carried over to the outside, so he was still suffering from a way too long dry spell to be this close to one of his lovers and not want to screw them silly.

Renji's face drew closer, close enough that if Ichigo turned even a little bit they'd be able to kiss. It was too much temptation. Ichigo darted forward to press their lips together, meaning it to be quick, subtle, like an invite for more but, before he could pull back, palms cupped the sides of his face, drawing him in closer and Renji deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across Ichigo's lips until Ichigo obliged and opened for him with a surge of aroused relief. Renji was hot and sweet, tasting of red bean paste, and Ichigo hummed, slinging an arm round Renji's neck as a large hand slid down to the small of his back, pulling him in tight. 

Their bodies fit like they always did, snugly, and the world fell away, lost to heavy breaths, legs shoved between thighs, hands sliding inside shirts, and the heavy beat of blood in Ichigo's veins. To long. It'd been way too long-

"Ichigo? Renji-san? Are you in here-? Ah!"

Ichigo leapt back like… well, like he'd just been caught making out in the kitchen. Tugging at his loosened clothing, he turned on his cousin, who was standing in the doorway, face bright red, and snapped, "What the hell do you want?" 

Uryū's expression switched from embarrassed to flinty at Ichigo's words. "I came to tell you that Byakuya was awake and asking for you," he said. And there might still be a blush on his cheeks but his arm was now solidly across his chest, propping his elbow so he could shove his new glasses up his nose with a pointed finger. He was pissed and yeah, having a go at him like that had been out of line. Ichigo should have known better.

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, shoving all that banked desire back down to focus on his cousin. "Sorry," he said, meaning it. "Thanks."

He must have put enough of what he was feeling across because Uryū immediately shook his head, arms and gaze both lowering. "It's okay. I should've called out before walking in. I wasn't thinking."

"It's your house. You shouldn't have to," Renji said, stepping forward so his shoulder brushed against Ichigo's. It was a nice statement of solidarity that made Ichigo feel better about being an ass.

It also brought Uryū's head up. "It's your house too," he said, brows pulling together. "It's just been so long since anyone lived here except father and I…"

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Katagiri-bachan had died a couple of years before mom. The twins had still been babies really, and Ichigo had been too young to know any details. It'd hit Uryū hard though, Ichigo remembered that much. 

"Yeah, so me and Renji need to be more considerate." Not to mention Yuzu might have caught them, and that didn't bear thinking about. She might ask questions. Shoving off the counter, Ichigo turned to Renji. "I guess we'd better wheel you out as proof of life again then."

"No, that's what I came up here to tell you," Uryū said, taking an abortive step towards them. "Byakuya woke up properly about an hour ago. He knows who and where he is, and he's asking for you both."

A hour! Ichigo turned to Renji but he was gone already. With a curse, Ichigo took off after him, out through the front door and leaping down the stairs, because this was the best news they'd had in days. For all that Yuzu had said the soul bond was back in place, lurking somewhere in the back of Ichigo's mind was the fear that their fix hadn't worked, that Byakuya had been too far gone to be brought back. Now though, if he'd actually woken up…

They barrelled into the training room together, almost getting jammed in the doorway they were in such a hurry, only to come up short when they found Ryūken and Yuzu emerging from the laboratory. Yuzu flashed them a grin as she dodged between them and vanished through into the basement. Ryūken though paused and gave them a judgemental look.

"Half an hour. No more. And no arguing. He might be awake, but he's still weak."

"Yes, sir," Renji replied.

Ichigo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His insides were a mass of worry knots and excitement, none of which were going to unravel until he saw Byakuya for himself. After another narrow-eyed glare, Ryūken sighed and finally stepped aside. Ichigo shot through the door and was halfway across the lab before a voice over on his right said, "Renji? Ichigo?"

Ichigo skidded to a stop and spun to find Byakuya in amongst the exercise equipment, struggling out from under a bright blue comforter that Ichigo last remembered seeing on Yuzu's bed. They'd moved him out of the operating room, Ichigo realised, stomach doing a back-flip, which meant he must be okay, or okay enough not to need the hardcore-level seals any more. 

"Byakuya!" he cried, a couple of long strides taking him over to the futon. He dropped down beside Byakuya to save him the effort of getting up and drank in the sight of him. He was still pale and gaunt, but smelt vaguely of flowers instead of sickness and his hair was clean again, braided back of his face. Yuzu's work, probably and that explained the missing hour. 

Giving up the unequal fight to stand, Byakuya raised a shaking hand to Ichigo's face, his eyes searching Ichigo's like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Look at you," he croaked. "I was so scared that something terrible had happened." 

"I'm fine," Ichigo replied, tipping his head and raising his own hand to cover Byakuya's as black nails scraped gently against his cheek, but they were nails, not claws, and the eyes that consumed him so greedily held only human hunger. He leaned forward, meeting Byakuya halfway, their lips hardly more than brushing across each other. Still, it was enough to send zings of electricity through Ichigo's body. He'd forgotten, somehow, in all the confusion and pain and terror how much he cared for this man, and feeling him now, feeling the cool press of him, rail-thin and frail but there and whole and sane once again, made Ichigo's heart leap.

Byakuya sighed and pulled away. He was smiling, and for once it actually reached his eyes. Ichigo returned it and perhaps it was all the time he'd spent with Zangetsu and Hisagi, but it was nothing like as hard as he'd feared to meet Byakuya's black and grey gaze without flinching. 

"And Renji," Byakuya said finally, tearing his eyes away. As he looked past Ichigo, his expression fell, and Ichigo turned to see what had happened. Renji was still by the lab door, hands fisted at his sides, staring at them like he didn't know whether to run away or come closer.

"Come on, you dumb-ass," Ichigo said, holding out an encouraging hand. "At least come and say hi." 

Renji shook his head, taking a step back and with a sinking feeling in his gut, Ichigo realised that the shit was about to hit the fan. He'd thought Renji's quip before about eating for two meant the idiot had got over this. Apparently not. 

"Renji-" he began, hoping to deflect or at least gentle whatever was going to be said. Too late.

"You bound us." The accusation came out low and hard.

Flinching, Ichigo shot a glance back at Byakuya, who looked genuinely bewildered. "Bound… you?" 

"Thrall bonds," Renji spat, his face twisting into something like fury, but could have been some kind of attempt to stave off tears. "It wasn't enough that we were your vassals. You bound us to you like dogs on a fucking rope-"

"No, I-"

"You're calling me a liar?" Renji snarled over the top of him.

"I would never… Renji, please, to bind someone like that would be-"

"Illegal?" 

Byakuya frowned at Renji's interruption, confusion writ large on his face. And was it Ichigo's imagination or was he showing way more emotion than usual. "Well, yes, of course, but that wasn't what I-"

"'Cause crap knows, the great Kuchiki would never do anything ill-fucking-legal! Unless it meant getting something he wanted."

This was getting out of hand. "Renji," Ichigo said warningly.

"No!" Renji snapped, furious crimson eyes flicking briefly to Ichigo. "We said we wanted answers off of him and these are the answers _I_ want." He punctuated the words with a jab of his finger towards the floor. The message was clear, he wasn't moving until he was satisfied.

"Fine," Ichigo replied, "But how about we try asking without taking his head off?"

Renji's scowl deepened as he folded his arms across his chest, but he didn't argue. Ichigo chose to take it as permission to hijack the conversation and turned to Byakuya. "That was what happened to you. Soul starvation."

"No," Byakuya was shaking his head. "That had nothing to do with any kind of binding. It was because of Senbonzakura. With them gone, I was drawn to your zanpakutō and unable to control-"

Ichigo held up his hand. "That was a part of it, yeah, but not all." He narrowed his eyes, trying to think of a way to explain, and fell back on the truth as far as he could make sense of it. "Look, Yuzu can see the strings, okay, the ones binding the three of us together. When that arrancar attacked you back at Arisawa-ojiisan's place, it sucked all mine and Renji's reiryoku out of you, so when Renji and I kept pulling power, you had no way of getting any back and ended up starving. That's why you turned into that…" Ichigo fumbled for a word and ended up with, "that monster." Because there was no point in lying. That thing Byakuya had become hadn't been even the slightest bit human. 

And was that what Byakuya meant when he said that shinigami weren't human souls? Was there a gaki inside all of them?

"I don't understand," Byakuya was saying. "If what you say is true-" A snarl came from across the room. Byakuya held up a hand towards Renji who looked ready to explode again, and added hurriedly, "And I have no choice but to believe that it is true since neither of you are liars, then how did this thrall bond happen?"

"That's what we'd like to know," Renji spat.

Ichigo shot him an exasperated look. "Ossan thinks it's when I gave you Zangetsu, back at the arena."

"Mine was when I gave you Zabimaru at the proving grounds."

 _That_ was where they'd met? Renji had said that Byakuya had saved his life, but still, that was extreme. Ichigo glanced at Renji's glowering face, swallowed hard and pressed on. "So the common thread seems to be us giving you our zanpakutō."

Byakuya was shaking his head again, chin tucked and gaze lowered, obviously thinking hard. "Many shinigami have given me their zanpakutō over the years. Surely not all of them could be bound to me?" He sounded totally disbelieving and Ichigo didn't blame him. It'd sounded far-fetched the first time he'd heard it too and despite Hachi's attempt to explain, he still didn't understand the technicalities.

Trying another tack, he said, "What do you remember about what happened?"

Byakuya blinked up at him for a second before his gaze shifted and turned distant. "When you gave me Zangetsu, I remember… I remember initially doubting that you understood the importance of what you were offering. Until I saw the look in your eyes, that is. They were so determined, so obstinate. You seemed wholly committed to your course of action, or I never would have accepted."

That was pretty much what Ichigo remembered too, and tied in with what he'd told Hachi. "Anything else?"

"I took the sword," Byakuya continued, more slowly. "And drew it… I wanted to see the blade- No, it was more than that. I wanted to introduce myself to it, however strange that may sound. This zanpakutō was about to fight alongside me and it didn't feel right to do so without getting to know each other a little first."

"I remember you touching the blade." Ichigo had thought he'd felt it at the time, like a caress against his soul. He'd put it down to nerves, but looking back, maybe that bit had been as real as Byakuya's fingers on the blade.

"I did?" Byakuya frowned slightly. "It's possible, though that isn't my over-riding memory." His gaze settled back on Ichigo, clear but resigned. "In truth at that moment I was more concerned about you being my vassal as well as clan-head in your own right. Potentially it was a legal minefield." 

Of course that's what he'd been thinking about. This was Byakuya. Ichigo bit back a smirk as Renji demanded, "What about me?" He still had his arms folded, but now they looked more like a barrier or a comfort than a protest.

"That is a day I will never forget," Byakuya said immediately. He looked over at Renji, grey-black eyes intense. "I went there to find a vassal, someone I could train up myself. Someone to fight at my side, an equal in strength if not rank. Someone… " His gaze dropped along with his voice, which suddenly sounded ripped open. "Someone who would never betray me. Never leave." 

The room resonated with silent grief in the wake of the words. Ichigo got it. He knew exactly what Byakuya was feeling because he'd felt like that after his mom was killed. But this was about Isshin, it had to be. Isshin was the one who'd betrayed him. Isshin had been the one who'd left. And had taken most of Byakuya's family with him.

The silence lingered long enough to become uncomfortable. Ichigo was just steeling himself to say something when Byakuya cleared his throat and continued, eyes still downcast but tone more matter-of-fact. "Initially it was Kira Izuru who drew my attention. It was clear that he already knew how to handle a sword, which would be a great boon, but when the fight began, it was you, Renji, who bewitched me. Your courage and tenacity, when so obviously out-matched in skill by your opponent, and yet still refusing to admit defeat." 

Emotion was bleeding back into his voice again, his fingers curling into fists on the comforter. "I kept telling myself that I was being irrational, allowing myself to be swayed by emotion when it was obvious that Kira was the better choice. He was half-trained already, potentially of noble stock, altogether more suited to my needs, and then the miracle happened. You called out your zanpakutō, and it was like a sign, a strident cry, that this young man, so full of fire and passion, _was_ the one destined to fight at my side." Finally Byakuya lifted his chin and the gaze he fixed on Renji burned with conviction. "And Renji, whatever else might have transpired between us since then, I have _never_ , not for a single moment, regretted my decision that day."

A blush crawled across the normally imperturbable Renji's cheeks, colouring the tips of his ears red. With a jerk of his chin, he looked away. "You still bound me," he said, though now his tone was mulish, which Ichigo knew meant he was at least starting to think about coming around.

"And I still don't understand how," Byakuya insisted, his shoulders sagging. One hand dropped it's death grip on the comforter and migrated towards Ichigo, who took it, winding their fingers together. 

"Renji said it was when he gave you Zabimaru, so why don't you start there."

Byakuya nodded, his gaze turning thoughtful. "The blade was very new, I know that, the spirit inside as brash as its master."

"So you touched it, like you did mine?" Ichigo suggested, feeling excitement rising. Was this the crucial thing that turned an innocent act into an illegal one.

"I don't know." Byakuya glanced over at Renji. "Do you remember, Renji?"

"Not the blade, no," Renji replied, quashing that hope, "but you got some of mine and Zabimaru's reiryoku tangled around you when you were handling them, and it stayed with you when you gave it back." 

"You saw that when it happened?" Ichigo asked, because it sounded like the kind of thing Yuzu said she could see and that was a Quincy thing, wasn't it?

"No." Renji shook his head, staring down at his feet. He scuffed his toe on the carpet. "I saw it when me and Zabimaru got shikai again," he said, before briefly outlining what sounded like a wild ride back through his past which had allowed him to unpick the kidō keeping Zabimaru sealed. "But I know it's right," he finished. "Here." He thumped his chest, eyes fierce, and Ichigo wasn't about to argue with a statement like that. Sometimes you did just know, and that held true even more for anything between a shinigami and their zanpakutō.

"So," he said, turning back to Byakuya, "It's not about touching the blade."

"Apparently not," Byakuya replied, wryly, "However, perhaps there is a clue in what Renji said. Ichigo, can you ask Zangetsu whether I inadvertently captured some of your reiryoku when you handed him over to me?"

Easily done, and honestly something he should have thought of doing before. _Ossan?_

_Sure, ask the damn Quincy,_ came a snarled reply. _Not like I'm your zanpakutō or anything._

_You weren't in charge when it happened,_ Ichigo pointed out with an internal eye-roll. 

_Too right,_ Zangetsu snapped back. _Ya think we'd have ended up hooked to that shinigami if I hadda?_

Hooked. Interesting choice of words. Ichigo tried again. _Ossan?_

_In retrospect, it might have been an error on my part,_ the Quincy spirit said after a moment's silence. _Being inside a sword instead of inside you was all very new. It is just possible that a small measure of our reiryoku could have become tangled around the shinigami's._

Ichigo opened his eyes and shook his head. "He doesn't know for sure, but he thinks some of our reiryoku might have got tangled around yours."

"So it was all an accident?" Renji protested, shoving off the wall where he'd been leaning.

Ichigo shrugged. "The blades were both pretty new, so maybe? At least from our sides. I dunno about yours though." He looked over at Byakuya. "I mean, we ended up with some of your reiryoku too."

"You… did?" Byakuya said hesitantly, glancing between him and Renji. "I thought it was you who were bound to me?"

"No, it goes both ways," Ichigo replied. "That's how come you ended up getting soul starved. Renji and me kept drawing on our link to you after the one between us and you had gone."

"I…see," Byakuya said, sounding like he didn't see at all. For a moment he simply stared at his hands and then he said, "I cannot remember anything specific. However, if it was caused by your reiryoku simply getting tangled with mine, you would have thought that the connection would be singular even if it allowed the reiryoku to flow in both directions."

It would make more sense. Then again, he was probably expecting too much hoping for anything like rationality in a situation like this. Folding his arms across his chest, Ichigo leaned back again the weights machine behind him and said, "I don't care. So long as it's working again, that's all that matters."

"And that he didn't do it on purpose," Renji rumbled, coming over to join them. He didn't sound totally happy, but was apparently willing to give Byakuya the benefit of the doubt. 

As he sat down on the other side of the futon, Byakuya smiled tentatively and reached out a hand towards him. Renji took it, cradling it in his own and studying it, running a finger across the black nails. "Looks odd," he said, after a moment, then added quickly with a nervous glance up at Byakuya, "But not in a bad way."

Byakuya's expression fell. "If the most we had to show for all this suffering was so superficial then I would be eternally grateful," he said. "But that's not the case, is it, Renji." He tugged his other hand free of Ichigo's and placed it over the top of Renji's. "I hurt you, my love, and I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"I guess." Reluctant and dragged out. Renji's gaze rose for a moment before casting to the side. "I'm still the boss of you though." He sounded hard, bitter.

"Of course, that is only natural-" Byakuya began, but that was it as far as Ichigo was concerned.

"For fuck's sake, you two," he snapped. "That's not how relationships work."

"It's how ours does," Renji replied, though his teeth seemed gritted around it. Which made no sense to Ichigo at all. It was obvious that Renji _could_ have an equal relationship. His and Ichigo's was about as equal as you could get. They'd hashed that out the night they'd left Byakuya. So, why couldn't he and Byakuya have the same thing?"

There was really only one answer, and it wasn't one Ichigo was prepared to accept. 

Anger rising, he let them have it. "Idiots. You're not in Seireitei any more. There aren't any captains here, or nobles, or gaki. The only ones stupid enough to follow their stupid rules is you two!" The last bit came out kind of shouty. Renji and Byakuya's eyes widened as they stared at him for long enough for the silence to get kind of uncomfortable. Heat crawling up his neck and cheeks, Ichigo shrugged and lifted his chin. "Well, it's true," he said, "And someone had to say it."

They exchanged looks, then Byakuya lifted his hand and stroked a fingertip down the side of Renji's neck, beneath his ear where the tattoo had changed from collar to lightning strike. "This design suits you far better than the one I forced on you," he said with a sad smile. "Please apologise to Zabimaru for me. I should never have taken what could never have been truly freely offered."

Renji ducked his head at the words, the tops of his ears colouring slightly and for the longest moment he remained, silent and unmoving, except for some rapid eye-blinking that Ichigo would never bring up even under torture. Finally he husked, "You ain't the only one who fucked up. I should've realised there was more going on with you than just Senbonzakura getting destroyed. I let you down when you needed me most."

Byakuya's hands twitched and an expression of terrible pain flitted across his face. "It's not your fault. I should have explained things properly. I meant to, but somehow the time was never right."

"What about now? Is the time right now?" Ichigo asked, seeing an opportunity to finally get the answers they were after.

Byakuya met his eyes, then Renji's, before looking around the odd room with its Quincy markings on the walls and total lack of other people to interfere. He nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I think it finally is."


	33. Epilogue: Sleepwalker Revisited

With his thoughts whirling like they were, there was no way Ichigo could sleep. Pushing back the blue comforter, he carefully extricated himself from between his two lovers. Byakuya grumbled slightly, making Ichigo freeze in place and study him worriedly until he settled again. In contrast, Renji's breath didn't so much as falter, even when Ichigo accidentally kicked him in the head on the way out.

Finally though, he managed to crawl clear and scramble to his feet, picking his way between the exercise equipment until he reached the door. When he got there, he glanced back at his lovers and couldn't help but smile. The space he'd left between them was already gone, Renji and Byakuya having both rolled towards the middle. They now lay face to face, fingers entangled, heads bowed and almost touching, their bodies not having the same hang-ups when bruised pride and protocol weren't in the picture. 

Quietly, he tiptoed out the door and into the training room proper and only then did he let himself relax and contemplate where to go next. His instinct was to head for the roof. That's what he'd done in Seireitei, and before that too. During his teen-aged years he'd spent hours at night up on the roof of the Kurosaki Mortuary just looking out over the town, but if he tried that now, he ran the risk of being spotted by a patrolling shinigami. Or of attracting a hollow. 

And just going up to the apartment wouldn't help at all. There were people there, and walls.

For a moment, the world closed in around him, bringing with it tightening restraints and Kurotsuchi's mocking voice, the slash of the blade, the burn of acid. 

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo reached out to ground himself, dragging back into mind exactly what he'd just been doing, reminding himself that the 12th was then, not now. That it was over and gone. That he was safe, his lovers lying sleeping just the other side of that door. 

The method worked. After a minute or so, he was able stand upright again and shove away memories of metal tables and blood spattered walls, and focus instead on things that were slightly easier to deal with. Like Renji and Byakuya, and how they must have felt trapped in the safe-room under Karakura hospital. 

As claustrophobic as hell, probably. And they'd been there for weeks. Ichigo should be able to deal with a few nights.

The trouble was, empty skies helped him clear his mind. He always did his best thinking when there was nothing above him but stars, and right now he really needed to think.

 _You could always join us._ Ossan's voice came through deep and calm, and Ichigo didn't need asking twice. Sliding down the wall beside the lab door, he closed his eyes and fell into his inner world. 

The sky opened above him, velvet-black and dotted with stars. For once he'd not landed inside the Senzaikyū, but on top of it, and the view was incredible. Buildings of all shapes and sizes stretched out around him. And not just Seireitei ones either. His old home nestled beside the burial grounds, Karakura High School brushed elbows with the 6th, and in the space where the 12th should be, stood the apartment building he was currently sitting in, in all its white stuccoed splendour.

Even further out, beyond Seireitei's walls, loomed Ginzan, the Shiba mine, and far off in the east, the terraced hillsides around the Kyōraku estate. His inner world really was a mind map of the places that mattered to him.

"Wow!"

 _It is good that your ambitions are expanding once again,_ came Ossan's voice inside his head.

Ichigo looked around for the Quincy spirit, but there was no sign. "Where are you?"

_You seemed to want solitude so we are both inside the tower. I think I can give you at least an hour before he becomes too troublesome._

'He' being Zangetsu. Ichigo grinned as he sat down. "Thanks, old man. An hour'll be more than enough." It would have to be. He didn't want to leave Renji and Byakuya for any longer than that anyway.

Which brought him to the crux of the matter: the massive info-dump Byakuya had laid on them earlier. 

Ichigo hadn't a clue what to do about it. Any of it. He'd thought it was bad when they were only facing Tsukishima and an Aizen who was in cahoots with Hirako. The truth was much worse. They were up against Muramasa as well, with its ability to rip a zanpakutō from a shinigami's soul and turn it on anyone, even its wielder. 

That's what had happened to Senbonzakura, and how the hell were they supposed to combat it when even Byakuya, who'd been trained to resist Muramasa's power, had fallen so easily. Combined with Aizen's mind-games, there wasn't a single person who wouldn't be vulnerable. Ichigo knew for a fact that he would be. Even after all these years, if someone dangled his mother's image in front of him, he wouldn't be able to stay in control.

And Aizen's plans were so much bigger that they'd imagined. He didn't just have a change in Seireitei's ruling faction in his sights, but the position of Soul King as well. 

Though, what it would mean if he succeeded, Ichigo had no idea. Byakuya's description had made it sound heretical that Aizen was even considering trying, like the universe would come to an end if he took the throne. Renji… not so much. He'd been more worried about the damage Tsukishima was doing, especially to the 6th. Getting back there so Yuzu could free the people he obviously still considered his own was Renji's main priority now.

So, which should they target first? Aizen or Tsukishima? Or was there something else more important brewing even now, something that none of them knew about because they had no way of getting current information out of Seireitei. 

That was a huge stumbling block. They couldn't plan if they didn't know and though Kūkaku and Ganju were their best options, Ichigo couldn't just open a senkaimon and ask them. Ginzan could be overrun by the Gotei by now, and even a single spy could bring the onmitsukidō down on their heads. No, they had no choice but to wait for Kūkaku to come to them. 

And in the meantime, Ichigo had to sit on his hands and do nothing.

"So quit moping and make me fucking pool."

So much for an hour. Ichigo glanced back at the hollow just heaving himself over the edge of the roof and snapped irritably, "I bet you've not even checked if there's one there already." After all, there might be. The only time Ichigo had been into his inner world version of Urahara's training ground was when Tsukushima's BFF mist was obscuring everything. Back then he'd stumbled into Hisagi's inner world so it was possible he'd missed…

Ichigo's mind stuttered to a halt, caught up on that single profound thought.

Hisagi's inner world. Thanks to Kazeshini being Zangetsu's fracción, Ichigo could enter Hisagi's inner world and talk to Hisagi. And Hisagi was in Seireitei.

Ichigo was back in the real world and scrambling to his feet in an instant.

"Guys!" he yelled, yanking open the door and practically falling inside as the bed exploded in a flurry of panicked movement. "Guys! Wake up! I know how we can do this!"

_fine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of _Give the People What They Want._ I hope you enjoyed it and thanks so much for reading. Every comment I receive is a shot of creativity, I swear. Thanks also, and as always, to my beta and cheerleader [junko](http://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko). Without her encouragement this story would never have got as far as it has, so if you're looking for someone to blame, look no further. :D 
> 
> The fourth and final part of the _Darker World series_ is in the works and will be posted when it's finished.


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